


Synthesis

by Trystero



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Backstory, Double Penetration, Dream Sex, Drug Use, Epic Battles, F/M, Fatherhood, Friendship, Guns, Jealousy, Loneliness, Major Character Injury, Marriage Proposal, Minor Character Death, Mistaken Identity, Pregnancy, Redemption, Reinvention, Revenge, Size Kink, Songfic, Vaginal Fisting, true romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-16
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-26 15:23:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 71
Words: 125,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trystero/pseuds/Trystero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TLDR: After the fall of the Legion, Vulpes takes the Courier captive, and has his wicked way with her. A <i>lot.</i></p><p>After the Courier orchestrates the death of Caesar, a furious Vulpes Inculta abducts her, exacting brutal vengeance. Craig Boone is tracking the missing Courier, but Vulpes’ cruel lust masks a deeper obsession, and he has no intention of letting her go.</p><p>Vulpes is a man of many secrets, and he may be down, but he's never out.</p><p>It soon becomes apparent that nothing is quite what it seemed. And just when uneasy truces seem to be forming, the Legate Lanius comes calling, after his own brand of revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally hosted by the kind folks over at Falloutkinkmeme over the course of 8 months back in 2011, this story contains great lashings of smut, not all of it consensual, some of it quite kinky. You have been warned!

It’s no easy business keeping a captive. If you want to keep them in relatively good condition but not risk them killing you and/or escaping, that is. Especially when the captive in question is as agile, sly and dangerous as this damnable Courier. 

Those were Vulpes’ thoughts as he wrestled her through the door of the legion safehouse and threw her onto the floor. She leapt up and he had to kick out her other knee to get her back down again so he could sit on her rump and tie her ankles tightly together. 

The first knee had had to go to make her unable to run away from him, when he’d captured her. She’d gotten some distance away after punching him so hard in the nose he’d seen stars for a few moments, but then the fool of a woman had stopped to gloat. Mistake. She had underestimated his ability with a pistol, and he had shot out her knee. Managing that with his antique C96 9mm Mauser, at over 50 yards range and with streaming eyes was quite a feat and Vulpes himself had been surprised. 

Now, two days later, they had reached their destination. Well, his destination. She didn’t get too much say about anything anymore. She’d lost a fair amount of blood and the pain of the knee had kept her awake the entire journey. She was wild-eyed and bordering on delirium. 

Once she was securely bound, Vulpes sat back and gazed at her. She was staring around the room, probably looking for a knife. He leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment. 

A soft shuffling sound awoke him. The tiny sounds of someone moving furtively nearby would wake Vulpes like a gun report would wake anyone else. He had trained himself that way and it was one of his many well-used survival skills. During his tenure as head of the Frumentarii there had been several men who would have liked to have usurped his position, so close to Caesar’s ear. Some had inexplicably vanished in the dead of night, leaving no traces. Vulpes was good at not leaving traces.

He half-opened one eye and observed the Courier laboriously trying to wriggle across the floor, towards a low table. She had a long way to go and was moving very slowly, so he decided to let her keep going for a while. The curving of her hips as she wriggled was quite sensual, as were the tiny gasps of effort she was struggling in vain to suppress. 

Vulpes idly wondered what he was going to do with her, now he had her here. He had made a monumental effort to get her to the safehouse, including carrying her for the uphill portions of the journey, but now the plan became vague. Kidnap the courier, make her idiot sniper boyfriend crazy with jealousy or grief, either was fine, and generally get revenge on the two of them, while avoiding any kind of exposure.

That last part was important because he was alone now. Caesar was dead, shot between the eyes by the idiot boyfriend. _Lucky shot_ , thought Vulpes furiously, clenching his teeth. Lanius had retreated a long way off and was no friend of Vulpes’ anyway. His last view of Lucius had been a power fist powering through his skull, wielded by the Brotherhood sister, humming and with a silly smile on her face.  
Meanwhile the only member of the Courier’s entourage of creeps that the Legion had taken down in response was the irritatingly facetious blonde medic. Vulpes had put a machete through the back of his neck. _Sew that up, smart fuck_. 

The Courier was nearing the table. Vulpes didn’t know what might be amongst the debris on it, so he silently rose and moved to crouch right behind her. If she’d been herself she’d have seen his slight shadow or smelled his leathery, coppery smell but she was in an apparent dream state. She reached out shakily towards an object on the surface and he caught her bound wrists with no effort. She seemed to have very little strength left in her. Vulpes was suspicious, as not more than a couple of hours ago she had been trying to claw his eyes out as he half-carried, half-dragged her up the hill to the safehouse.

Looking into her eyes he expected to see their usual glint of cunning and defiance but there was nothing like that now. She didn’t even seem to be able to properly focus. She looked... afraid. Vulpes was transfixed; he had never seen vulnerability in her before, didn’t even know it existed for her. 

He gently stroked her cheek with his thumb, realising presently that it was the most affectionate touch he had ever given anyone.

Lifting her up, he made his way down the stairs to the nearest bed and laid her down. Her vacant eyes were still staring at an imaginary horizon, and her expression remained fearful, like the look people get when they hear a disturbing sound but cannot tell where it is coming from. 

There was a fresh water supply available, the first in two days, and Vulpes went to it and washed himself. He was fastidious, and took care to clean the caked blood and dirt from under his fingernails. He cleaned his genitalia and his teeth and tried to wash his hair as best he could. The medic’s severed jugular had sprayed blood across the side of Vulpes’ head and it had congealed in his hair. The water ran reddish brown as Vulpes scrubbed.


	2. Chapter 2

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a lone fox in possession of a well-supplied safehouse must be in want of a vixen. 

Vulpes had never had time for women, partly because no one could have risen so fast and so far in the ranks of the Legion as he had if they spent their time and energy inserting body parts into slaves - with all the subsequent washing that that entailed - and partly because the available women were so unattractive to him, being either filthy, emaciated slaves who could not summon the slightest enthusiasm for the task, or the untrustworthy dissolute women that he encountered on his missions. 

Early in his career in the Legion he had taken part in mass rapes during and after the sacking of tribal settlements. Caesar encouraged it as a way of breaking the spirit of the tribes, shaming them into submission. It was still a common practice amongst the recruits and legionaries, but Vulpes had found it increasingly distasteful, and once he became a decanus he forbid his contubernium from joining in the merriment. 

As he had progressed in the Legion’s ranks, he had lived by an ever stricter moral code. He did not surreptitiously drink, smoke or use any meds or drugs. Not even healing powder, though that was officially allowed. He carried some to use on his men if they were injured, but his own wounds he merely kept clean. He kept his armour and weapons in as pristine condition as he could. He did not fornicate with the dissolute and rarely bothered the slaves. His occasional moments of free time were spent resting, reading and thinking.

His intention was that once the Legion had fully achieved its goals, he could take some time off and find himself a wife. Vulpes was the kind of man who chose carefully, then mated for life.

As it was, he had reached the age of 26 never having been in love or even having so much as a crush on anyone. In return for which sacrifice he had educated himself to an unusually high standard and attained extraordinary rank and influence within the Legion. 

The Legion... without which he didn’t know what to do. For the second time in his life, Vulpes’ world had been abruptly turned upside down. As a boy he had been forced to exchange his carefree tribal childhood for a brutal Legion traineeship. That had been a huge shock, though he struggled to remember it clearly now. 

But this time was different. Life as a valued member of a collective was gone, and he had effectively been transformed into a lone wanderer. 

In the space of a single minute Caesar and Lucius were no more, and Vulpes had found himself entirely alone. Without them the Legion was nothing. Lanius was no good, he was a fearsome field commander, and charismatic in his way, but not a wise leader. He was reckless and bloodthirsty, and had no notion as to philosophy or civilisation.

Vulpes lay on the bed next to the one the Courier was crumpled on, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. The depth of the silence here was astonishing to him. He had never stayed here without his men before; there had always been talking or snoring going on in the background. He had been naturally aloof all his life, but he had never felt so isolated.

The silence became so oppressive that he turned on his side to look at her, just to sense some human company. It had been a lunatic idea to bring her with him. He had been out of his mind with grief and shock at seeing Caesar and Lucius die, the men he respected most in the world, and the only two he counted as friends. His half-crazed idea had been to escape to the safehouse, then beat her and fuck her and hurt her till Caesar’s honour was satisfied. Whenever that would be.

He watched her chest rise and fall. Her eyes were open, staring at nothing. Her lips were moving but no sound was coming out. It occurred to him that she might die, if her leg wound became seriously infected. He rose and went to inspect the bullet hole. It was messy and the skin around it was an angry red. No pus, that was a good sign. He rinsed the bowl he had used for her face and found a clean cloth to use as a rag. On the shelves he located some aged healing powder. He cleaned her wound very carefully, not bothering to be rough as she wasn’t in a state to appreciate the gesture. When it was clean he applied the healing powder. 

No way was he going to let her die on him.


	3. Chapter 3

The stinging sensation of the healing powder on her open wound gave the Courier her voice back, but she was slurring and her words were delirious. 

“Craig? Wha’s.. issa radscorpion.. can’t.. can you.. see what.. wha’s biting.. where’s..get it.. can you.... here? Help! Argh!”

She struggled against her bonds and Vulpes slapped her hard. She froze and he gripped her bound wrists and raised them above her head, tying them securely to the top of the bed frame. Then he tied her ankles separately to the bottom of the bed, loosely but securely enough. He got his knife and set about cutting her Recon suit off. It was difficult to get garments off prone bodies whole, and he didn’t care about destroying her gear. She’d have no need of it from now on anyway. 

“Craig, eh,” he muttered as he worked. He leaned close to her face. “Craig’s dead,” he hissed viciously, just to enjoy her response. There was none, she was somewhere else.

Pulling the remnants of her clothing away he saw her naked for the first time. His eyebrows raised slightly. Not bad. For a woman. The warrior life did worthy things for a man’s physique, and it seemed that the rule applied to women as well. She looked strong and fit. Her pleasingly round hips complemented a narrow waist. She was disgustingly dirty though, and smelled slightly of stale urine. Well, there was no difficulty in remedying that. 

He set to work washing her torso, starting with her breasts. With wet hands he slowly caressed them, delighting in the unfamiliar softness. There was nothing soft about his own body. Nor anything else in his life. Her nipples were erect in response to the cold water, and he leant down and touched one with his tongue, then suckled experimentally on it. A putrid whiff reached his nostrils and he recollected himself to the task at hand. He scrubbed her armpits free of sweat. He washed her middle and removed lint from her belly button. 

Methodically, he worked his way south.

Spreading her legs wide without any resistance on her part he sat back and gazed in awe for a moment. Snapping himself out of his reverie he washed her thoroughly, front and back. He wanted her sweet because he planned to have his tongue in there soon. Not that she’d notice, she was still away with the fairies, occasionally murmuring incoherently and randomly giggling in a peculiar way. 

When she was clean to his satisfaction he didn’t bother to dry her, just put everything aside and stripped his tunic off. He wore nothing beneath it. His cock was massive and hard as steel. In contrast to the smooth elegance of his face and hands, Vulpes’ cock was brutal looking, exceptionally long, thick and veined. Being so gifted in this respect had earned him a lot of kudos with the other legionaries, but he’d had a problem fucking slaves with it because they were always dry and clenched with fear, and often unable to accommodate him. The Courier would not present such problems however, relaxed in her dreamstate, and freshly moistened. 

Kneeling between her legs he slid a finger experimentally inside her moist cunt, watching her eyes. She paused in her ramblings. He withdrew and added a second finger, pushing in deeply. She looked from one area of nothing to another. He thrust a few times, and her eyes found his face but she seemed to be having trouble focusing. Without taking his eyes from hers, he took his fingers out and licked them, shuddering slightly at the exquisite taste. He added a third finger and thrust his hand in forcefully, intending to hurt. She moaned and the sound made his pulse quicken and his brain melt into pure primordial urges.  
He fell on her cunt, pulling her apart with his fingers, licking and sucking ravenously. He fucked her with his tongue and she moaned again, sending his desire into meltdown. His cock throbbed intensely and his only thought was to get it deep, deep inside her. 

Vulpes slammed into the Courier like waves hit the shore in a storm. His length went further into her with every powerful thrust until he was buried entirely. Snarling, he battered her body relentlessly, over and over again, his teeth gritted and his mind empty of everything except rage and lust. Coming hard inside her, he laid his head on her breast for a moment, closed his eyes and heard her heartbeat chime with his own.


	4. Chapter 4

Vulpes slept the sleep of the dead. He dreamed of nothing, and did not stir for close to 11 hours. It was the deepest sleep he had had in years. 

He awoke at the sound of the door upstairs unlocking. Leaping out of bed he palmed his ripper and was poised with his back to the wall next to the stairs before the door had even opened. Sunlight flashed into the building and footsteps sounded on the floor above. Heavy items were dumped onto the floor. Vulpes heard a deep melodic voice humming a Vegas showtune. Well, it couldn’t be the Courier’s band of halfwits then. The only men they had were an ancient ghoul, and Craig Boone, a man who only exhibited two emotions: surly or miserable. Him cheerfully humming was an utter impossibility. Of course they used to have another guy, but, heh.

The footsteps came down the stairs and Vulpes tensed. A tall, handsome man in a veteran Legion uniform stepped into the room, saw the injured, naked Courier tied spread-eagled to a bed and froze. 

“Ave, Atticus,” said Vulpes from behind him. Atticus spun round and exhaled in relief.  
“Oh, phew. Vulpes Inculta. Glad it’s you, I thought for a moment raiders had made a nest here.”  
“No. I am keeping a prisoner here.”  
“Where are your men?”  
“I no longer have any men. Didn’t you hear?” Vulpes raised an eyebrow. “The Legion is destroyed. Caesar is dead.” Vulpes’ voice was soft with fury.  
Atticus was stunned.  
“Thanks to our friend here,” Vulpes gestured towards the Courier. “The legendary Courier.”  
“You’re fucking with me,” Atticus looked incredulous.  
“If only I was.”

Atticus walked over and looked at the Courier. She was awake but still not in the room. Her ruined knee had succumbed to infection and looked bad. She panted in short breaths, seeming in immense pain. 

“What happened?” Atticus asked.  
Vulpes replied in a tired voice, “It hardly matters anymore. She attacked the fort and her friends killed Caesar and Lucius. More than half of Lanius’ men immediately deserted, and he and the remainders have retreated to Flagstaff with their tails between their legs.” Vulpes’ lip curled in disgust as he spoke.

“Fuckin’ chickenshits,” said Atticus, still looking at the Courier.  
“Indeed.”  
“So what you gonna do with her?”  
“I’m not sure yet,” said Vulpes honestly.  
“You been usin’ her?”  
“Naturally.”  
“Mind if I have a go?”  
Vulpes thought about it. He was feeling generous.  
“Be my guest.”

Atticus chuckled nastily, unbuckling his armour and shrugging it off. Pulling his tunic over his head he revealed a large, powerful frame, and an impressively big cock. Taking it in his hand he moved to the Courier. He stroked it over her face and it stiffened in a second. 

Vulpes watched with interest.  
Would he..? 

Yes. Atticus pulled her jaw open with one finger and forced his large cock in. She gave no reaction. He grunted in pleasure and pushed further till most women would have been choking, and at that point the Courier suddenly bit down, and wouldn’t release. 

“OW! Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow what the FUCK?! Aarghh! Vulpes, didn’t you break her in?” he shrieked, trying frantically to prise her jaws apart.

“Haven’t had time,” said Vulpes casually. He took a hammer from a shelf and went over. Inserting the handle flat-side into the side of her mouth he twisted it and forced her jaws further open. Atticus staggered back, pearls of blood sprouting from tooth-marks on the shaft of his cock. 

“I oughta knock all her teeth out,” he growled. 

“No,” said Vulpes firmly. Some of the prettier slaves had had all their teeth forcibly removed for this very purpose in the fort, but he had found it an immoral practice. Unable to eat properly, they eventually wasted away, and the wasting of good slaves was against the Legion’s proper interests. 

He could not have said why, but he did not want the Courier to die. Suffer, yes. But the thought of her dying gave him a strange feeling, and not a good one. It was as though she was his last link to his old self.

“You coulda mentioned it. And if she ain’t broken why’s she look so broke?” Atticus grumbled.

Ignoring Atticus’ complaints, Vulpes examined her leg wound. It looked a lot worse, and there was pus in it now. He felt her forehead. She was in a high fever. He got clean rags and soaked them in fresh water, then wet her face, squeezed some water into her mouth, and laid one on her forehead to cool her down. He used another to clean her wound, and then sprinkled healing powder in it.

That was not going to be enough and he knew it. A dose of hydra would be perfect but he had none. She needed something stronger than healing powder or the infected flesh would become gangrenous and she would not last more than a few days.

“Atticus,” Vulpes said speculatively, “in your trading have you happened to pick up any medicines?”  
“Like what?”  
“Hydra, stimpacks, or anything similar? This wound has become severely infected. It is going to kill her, and I want her alive.”  
“Uh, stimpacks are dissolute drugs Vulpes,” Atticus said slowly.  
“I know that,” snarled Vulpes, feeling a wave of cold fury wash over him. “Do you have anything or not?”  
Atticus looked uncomfortable. “I don’t have hydra or stims, but I got, uh, something that might help sterilise the wound.”  
“Out with it,” said Vulpes through gritted teeth.

Atticus went upstairs and rooted through the bags he had dumped on the floor. Coming back down he sheepishly handed Vulpes a large bottle of whiskey. There was some missing, and Vulpes eyed Atticus but said nothing. Opening it he carefully poured a small amount on the wound, making sure to cover all of the exposed flesh. He dabbed it away, then repeated the action. 

“Since the Legion is no more, nothing is officially banned anymore,” murmured Vulpes as he worked.  
Atticus brightened. “Does that mean we can have a drink now and again?” he asked hopefully.  
“You can do whatever the hell you want,” said Vulpes without interest.

Retrieving the bottle, Atticus got two glasses from the shelves and poured himself a measure. He hovered the neck of the bottle over the second glass and asked Vulpes if he fancied a drop.

Vulpes thought about it. He had never been a drinker, not just because it was against Legion rules but because he had needed his wits about him at all times as a Frumentarius. Those reasons didn’t apply any more, and the whiskey smelled good. It sparkled in the bottle and seemed to beckon him. What the hell. 

“Why not,” he said.

Three glasses later, they were pleasantly drunk and Atticus was making Vulpes laugh with stories about the idiocies of the profligates he met in his travels. 

“..but she wasn’t angry with him, she was angry with the brahmin, for stealing her husband! She actually called the brahmin ‘that bitch’ ha ha!”

Vulpes snorted hysterically and whiskey came out of his nose. His eyes started to water. Wiping them on his arm he leaned back, closed his eyes and laughed till water came out of his eyes for other reasons.

“Oh hey Vulpes, speaking of profligates doing the dirty, I got something you might like to take a look at,” said Atticus deviously, wiggling his eyebrows.  
“Oh?”  
“Check this out,” Atticus ran back up the stairs and came down brandishing a tattered magazine. Vulpes took it. It was an antique publication entitled _Cat’s Paw_ with a stylised painting of a black cat on the front. Someone had scrawled “ Myron’s! Keep your sticky fingers off!” on the inside of the cover.

Vulpes’ curiosity was piqued. The first several pages of _Cat’s Paw_ seemed to be devoted to an article on alternative uses for energy weapons, a few after that were inseparably glued together by some substance. From then on were revealed a series of colour-distorted pictures of voluptuous naked women, some simply posing, others performing obscene acts. One appeared to be putting an energy weapon to a very alternate use. 

Vulpes was fascinated; he had heard rumour of old magazines like this but had never come across one. Gazing at the heavy-eyelashed, coyly smiling women, his whiskey-tinted thoughts turned to his own sex life, and then to earlier memories of the woman currently lashed to the bed behind him. 

He would never admit it, but back when she had seemed to be helping the Legion, after he had delivered Caesar’s Mark to her, he had dared to think that one day she could conceivably become his wife. 

He knew Caesar and Lanius would not compete for her, they preferred dominating the slaves. Lucius was his only real rival amongst Legion men, but Vulpes had enough respect for his friend that if her hand had been won by Lucius, he would have made peace with that.

A less tolerable rival was the ugly sniper. He had been with her when she had accepted Caesar’s Mark on the Strip that day, staring at Vulpes through his mirrored sunglasses, jutting his chin and positioning his body obtrusively between them. The man behaved like a rottweiler. Had about as much brains too. 

She had stepped lightly around her guard dog to take Vulpes’ offering, looking boldly into his eyes, then smiling warmly and politely thanking him, sincerely or so he had thought. She had been so close he could smell her sweet scent. When her hand had touched his he had felt it so vividly, it was like time paused, like everything else faded into the distance and the two of them were momentarily together in their own world.

He had been so taken by surprise at the feeling in his chest that he had ended the conversation abruptly and, walking away towards Freeside, had had a surge of adrenaline so intense that he’d had to fight the urge to break into a run. She had called softly after him, pronouncing his full name perfectly, and when he’d turned she had said, “I’ll see you there,” and smiled. The sniper had scowled furiously and turned to spit on the ground, and, for just a second, Vulpes’ heart had stopped.

She was a few years older than Vulpes, but now, pale and drawn, she looked older than herself. It did nothing to dampen Vulpes’ carnal desire for her. Even now, as traitorous, and as ill as she was, in a secluded part of his heart she was still the finest of women, tall, strong, intelligent and dedicated. It was a tragedy that she had dedicated herself to the wrong side.

The bitter irony that her extraordinary guile was matched only by his own cut at Vulpes like a rusty blade.

He was perplexed by conflicting desires. His primary desire was to brutalize and humiliate her, in revenge for the damage she had done.  
Somewhere deep in his subconscious, however, a powerful secondary, secret desire existed, a wish to be able to express the tenderness and affection he knew he was capable of, but had - by necessity - been fiercely suppressing all his life. 

Vulpes frowned. The unaccustomed alcohol in his blood was helping him to think about his emotions, but hindering him from following a consistent line of thought. The only thing he was sure of was that he wanted absolute control over her; the control he had once had over everything else.

Pondering the unfathomable, he leaned back against the wall and flicked through some more pages of Myron’s harlot magazine. An advertisement for Vault-Tec Modern Living. A recipe for atomic cocktails. Then Vulpes reached a page that broke his reverie with a jolt.

“By Mars! Who are these people?” Vulpes was genuinely shocked.  
“Fucked if I know, profligate whores, long dead now I suppose,” said Atticus, leaning over to look at the page.  
“I have never... seen anyone doing this,” said Vulpes slowly, turning his head to an angle as he stared at the picture.  
“Oh man, I have,” snickered Atticus, “in Vegas. Seriously, you would not believe what the chicks at the Gomorrah will do.”

At this admission of un-Legionlike behaviour Vulpes tore his eyes away from the picture to look at Atticus, but there wasn’t much point saying anything so he returned to gazing at the picture.  
It depicted two men fucking one woman, and was posed so shamelessly that nothing whatsoever was left to the imagination. 

Vulpes and Atticus stared at the picture, mesmerised by its barbaric beauty. Simultaneously they had a magical idea. Their heads turned in unison towards the Courier. Then their eyes met.  
“You thinkin’..?” said Atticus.  
“I believe I am,” Vulpes smiled evilly.  
Both men rose and moved to stand beside her, looking down on her naked form. 

They were drunk but not too drunk, and the rough red cloth of their tunics did nothing to hide the men’s growing excitement. 

Vulpes stared down at her with narrowed eyes, considering how best to achieve the feat. To obtain maximum pleasure without further damaging her shattered knee would be tricky. He glanced back at the picture. No, that configuration was out of the question, she could not be kneeling, or standing for that matter.

Atticus’ cock was somewhat scratched up and too much friction would be painful, so they agreed that Atticus would enter her soft pussy from below her and Vulpes would take her in the ass from above. 

They untied her and shifted her onto one side of the bed, still lying on her back. Atticus tied a thick gag over her mouth to avoid any further encounter with her teeth, then tossed his tunic aside and climbed on top of her. Hooking her good leg over his shoulder he forced his cock roughly into her, until he was in to the hilt. Her pussy was still wet and glistening from the amount of come Vulpes had deposited in her the night before. She made a small gasp as he shoved in the final inch. He pulled out and immediately pushed back in, faster this time. The third thrust was faster again, and Atticus began fucking her in earnest. 

The bedframe bashed against the wall as Atticus rammed himself into her, grunting and muttering curses under his breath. He was very large and very strong and was showing her no mercy. Vulpes started to worry that he might injure her internally. He hadn’t worried about that the night before, but seeing someone else do it was another thing.

He was on the verge of saying something when Atticus eased off and, still buried inside her and holding her tight to him, rolled over onto his back with his legs straight and her now on top of him. “Get on in there, Vulpes” he said happily.

Vulpes climbed onto the bed below them and placed his knees outside Atticus’ and between the Courier’s. He reached forward and spread her ass apart. Her pussy was red and swollen, tight around Atticus’ girth. He licked his right thumb and pushed it into her cute asshole, rubbing it smoothly in and out. He licked his left thumb and pushed that in too, gently stretching her. It was going to be an interesting challenge to get himself into such a small hole, especially as it was being squeezed by Atticus’ occupation next door.

He stretched her as much as he could, then spat on her hole and pushed his cock against it. At first he could not gain entry, but slowly it started to give, and he watched himself sliding in. The sense of proscribed violation was delicious. Revenge was sweet indeed. 

Deeper and deeper he went. He closed his eyes. The pressure was intense but it was so good. Deeper. Her feverish body was hot as all hell inside. Deeper. He looked down, and saw he was fully in. Her vulva was stretched taut around the two huge cocks. 

_Vulva_ , thought Vulpes, a beautiful Latin word. He fucked her slowly, savouring the sensation. _Clitoris_ , another good Latin word. He regretted that she was not sufficiently _compos mentis_ to enjoy this. He could pay attention to her clitoris and make her orgasm, whether or not she wanted to. How sweet that would be.

As he violated her in a way that he knew was unforgivable, the fury that had gripped Vulpes since he’d seen the bloody hole open up in Caesar’s forehead ebbed away. Rhythmically thrusting into the Courier’s bruised and broken body, stroking her silky thighs with his calloused hands, Vulpes achieved a state almost approaching tranquility. He didn’t want to stop, but he could feel his testes begin to tighten, and shuddering with pleasure, he lost control and came hard, deep in her ass.

He sat back, then moved across to lie on the bed next to the one she was on. Staring at the ceiling, he growled, “Get off her,” in a warning tone. Atticus, having already come twice in her fiery cunt, raised no objection.  
All of a sudden Vulpes did not want Atticus anywhere near her.


	5. Chapter 5

Lying back, Vulpes started to think about what he could do about her injury. Gangrene was a real danger now. He would need to go looking for stronger meds in nearby settlements, but he felt uneasy about leaving her alone at the safehouse. He wasn’t sure he could trust Atticus, and who knew who else had a key to the place. He needed to find a replacement lock. An unpickable one. 

It struck him that she had not been able to drink water since they arrived here. Feverish, dehydrated, and having just had two hot-blooded men all over her, she was in danger of overheating and frying her brain. 

He got up and found a rag. Soaking it in the cold water from the fountain, he went to her and squeezed some into her mouth. He mopped her whole body, letting the water lie on her skin to cool her down. He cleaned between her legs, rinsed the rag with more cold water and left it on her forehead. 

“Atticus, I must go out for a while, will you stay here?” he asked.  
“Sure,” said Atticus, “I guess I got no work to do anymore.”  
“I will be back as soon as I can.” Vulpes pointed at the Courier. “Do. Not. Touch. Her.” he ordered in an ice cold, one-mistake-and-you-die voice.  
“Uh huh,” Atticus said in a like-I-fucking-care voice.  
Vulpes wasn’t happy about it but there was nothing much else he could do. He put on his tunic, grabbed a satchel and his ripper and left.

He flew down the hill towards Nipton at an all-out run. It would not be optimal if anyone saw where he came from, or recognised the red of his tunic. Reaching Nipton he ran into the first house he came to, opening drawers and searching footlockers for meds. 

He found a merc grunt outfit and put it on, stashing his tunic in his satchel. No meds though. The second house contained some Rad-Away and Rad-X, which he took for good measure. The next few houses were a bust. The general store had a dead man lying in the entrance he recognised as an idiot named Boxcars, but nothing useful on the shelves. It looked like someone had stripped the place clean. 

In the last house he found a first aid kit containing several stimpacks. Good but no longer good enough. Taking them, he set off again, this time in the direction of the Mojave Outpost. 

There were caravaneers standing around at the entrance to the Mojave Outpost, but on talking to them, none of them had the special item he wanted. They suggested he try the bartender, saying she had all kinds of things and might have something freaky like that. He entered the bar, paused for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the gloom, and then acting as casual as a Brahmin farmer he approached the woman bartender. 

“Good afternoon,” he said quietly.  
She looked him up and down and said gruffly, “Yeah?”  
“I understand you have meds for sale.”  
“Sure. Here’s what I got,” she reached under the bar and pulled out a case full of small bottles and tubes.  
Vulpes rifled through and to his immense relief found the item he had been searching for. A dose of hydra. He took it and placed it on the counter. He saw Med-X and recognised it as a painkiller that NCR troops used, and took several. Then his eye was caught by an odd thing, some kind of leather bracelet with a more complicated-looking stimpack built into it.  
“This is..?” he enquired.  
“One-fifty.”  
“I meant what is it,” said Vulpes dryly.  
“It’s a super-stimpack, heals a lot more than a regular one, you strap it on like this,” she demonstrated on her wrist.  
“Hmm,” said Vulpes. He wanted it but it was very expensive. He had 235 bottle caps and nothing else to trade. Except maybe his ripper and the clothes on his back. He pictured himself walking naked and unarmed back to the safehouse. Maybe not.  
“How much is all of this together?” he asked.  
“150, 60, 55... 265 in total.”  
“Would you accept 235?”  
“No,” said the woman flatly.  
She started putting the things he had chosen back into the case.

Vulpes looked into her eyes, pondering how best to kill her without starting an Outpost-wide riot, when she solved his problem.  
“Maybe you could earn the extra caps another way,” she said in a lascivious voice, looking pointedly at his crotch. Vulpes sighed inwardly. He had experienced this many times before; immoral women were peculiarly attracted to him. He didn’t appreciate it.  
“I can do anything you want,” he said, smiling and raising one eyebrow suggestively on the outside, sneering and rolling his eyes on the inside.  
She bought it. They always did. “C’mon upstairs,” she said merrily, the sourness vanished from her demeanour. 

Entering her room she locked the door behind them and took Vulpes in an embrace, grinding her hips against his crotch. His cock responded in a friendly way but his brain didn’t. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, dropping her carelessly on it. She giggled and he jumped on top of her, flipping her onto her belly.  
“Oh, like that is it?” she said breathlessly, and he replied, “It’s like this,” and kneeling on her back, stopped her airflow.

Downstairs again, he slipped behind the bar, took the entire case of drugs and walked nonchalantly out of the bar, out of the outpost and out of sight. The second he was out of sight he broke into a fast run. It would not be long before another customer entered and asked why no one was tending the bar.

He ran all the way back to the safehouse. It was a long distance over rough terrain, but Legion men were trained to be able to run all day. Hence the light armour, and the sculpted bodies. When Vulpes reached the safehouse he was tired and hot, regretting the whiskey he had drunk earlier in the day. He went straight to the water fountain and drank deeply. Atticus was asleep, and the Courier looked dead.

Going to her side, he felt her forehead and listened to her heart. Still hot, still beating. Vulpes silently thanked Mars and set about decanting the meds she needed from the case. He had more than enough now, but he was not very familiar with how to use them. There was a whole box of Med-X, and inside was a little instruction leaflet, which he read. 

“ _Congratulations on purchasing Med-Tek Labs’ Med-X, the most potent painkiller on the market today!_ ” it proclaimed proudly. “ _Med-X will remove any pain and reduce any fever that has not killed you yet!_ ” He skimmed down to the useful section. “ _Med-X can be injected into flesh, or directly into a vein for a more powerful effect._ ”

Looking at her right arm he could see fine blue veins, and aiming as carefully as he could, he shot one with a dose of Med-X. He put that arm down and taking her left, strapped the super-stimpack to her wrist, again poking the needle into a vein. He prayed he was doing it properly, and not overdosing her in her severely weakened state. 

Lastly he took out the vial of hydra. He knew how to use this as it had originally been developed by the Legion themselves. Administering it, he looked at her face and tried to hear her breathing. 

He stared at her for a long time but nothing changed.

An hour or two later Atticus woke up and started rummaging around for food. He turned the radio on and the sweet melody of _Johnny Guitar_ filled the room. 

_Maybe you're cold, but you're so warm inside_

“I’m gonna go cook us up something on the fire,” Atticus said, heading upstairs.  
Vulpes nodded silently. He felt despair. The meds were having no apparent effect, she looked exactly the same as she had before, close to death. The only thing that had changed was that her eyes had finally closed. Not a comforting change.

_Whether you go, whether you stay, I love you  
What if you're cruel, you can be kind, I know_

Vulpes got up and followed Atticus upstairs. Outside the air had cooled and a beautiful sunset was beginning to appear. The faint sweet scent of honey mesquite trees drifted in the air. Vulpes closed his eyes and breathed it in, trying to think of nothing.


	6. Chapter 6

“Hey Vulpes,” said Atticus, through a mouthful of barbecued gecko. They were sitting around the campfire, in rich blue twilight. Over their heads the first stars of the night were starting to appear.  
“Mmm?”  
“Think I’m gonna take off tonight.”  
“To go where?” Vulpes was curious.  
“I got a thing going with a woman in Primm. Think I’ll go see her, maybe set up there for a while.”

Vulpes said nothing. He had mixed feelings; on the one hand he didn’t completely trust Atticus and wanted him away from the Courier, but on the other he didn’t want Atticus blabbing her location to anyone in Primm. The Courier was known and liked there. If they heard anything, there was a strong chance it would get back to her cohort of glorified mercenaries. Next thing, Vulpes would step outside one fine morning and a sniper’s bullet would silently take his head off. 

He considered his other options... holding Atticus prisoner, or killing him. Neither strongly appealed.

“If you go, you must never speak of the Courier, or me, or this location again,” he said.  
“Course not,” said Atticus.  
“Swear. On your honour.” Vulpes had been going to say ‘by Caesar’ but that would be no oath at all.  
Atticus laughed. “Hey, relax man. I won’t say anything.”  
“Swear,” repeated Vulpes coldly.  
“I swear, I will never tell anyone where you and your hot dead babe are holed up,” teased Atticus.  
Vulpes chewed a tough piece of gecko and reconsidered the murder option.

After they ate, Atticus bid Vulpes vale and the tall man left. Vulpes was a little sorry to see him go; now he had no one to talk to but himself. The radio was still on inside, mocking him with _I’m So Blue_. He turned it off.

He wanted to lie down but could not rest yet, he had one more task to do - better security for the door. Packing some tools, he went down the hill by moonlight to Nipton, and into a house he had taken note of earlier. It had a very sturdy bar on the inside of the door. In the dark he unscrewed the entire apparatus and took it. 

He remembered that the house had a woman’s bedroom at the back and went in there to collect some items for the Courier. The moonlight shone in the window, illuminating the room but giving everything an eerie colourlessness. He picked up a comb, and wondered what else women liked to have. He really had no idea. He gave up and left.

Walking slowly back up the hill, Vulpes felt a deep sense of unease. Atticus seemed to have been cheerfully breaking many Legion rules. His loyalty was questionable. He could not be trusted to keep his mouth shut now.

Arriving back at the dark and silent safehouse, he lit a lantern to work by and fixed the bar to the inside of the door. Satisfied, he went downstairs. 

The Courier was in the same position as he’d left her. He felt her head. The Med-X had done its job, her temperature felt normal. The super-stimpack was empty so he took it off. He inspected her knee. The redness and swelling had gone and the wound had nearly closed. 

By Mars, thought Vulpes ruefully, we were fools not to have made use of these drugs in the Legion. Letting good soldiers die of treatable injuries had been madness. How much more powerful the Legion would have been had we not constantly lost so many legionaries to illness and battle injuries; men that it took so much time and effort to train.

Her hair was still in the braid she had had it in when she attacked the fort. He untied the binding at the end of the braid and untwined her hair. It was wavy from having been braided so long, and dull with dust from the journey here. He remembered how it had gleamed in the sun on the Strip. He combed it and it gained a little of the shine back. He stroked it. Then he buried his face in it. It felt like silk to him, and smelled like her.

He stood and took his clothes off, draping them on the next bed to hers. As he was getting ready for bed, he remembered the fire outside. He should have double-checked that the embers were out, lest they attract unwanted attention. Leaving the lantern downstairs, he went out to the fireplace. Shivering slightly as the cool night air touched his naked skin, he began to smother the embers with dirt.

Alone downstairs, Vienna stirred in her sleep. Groggily she half-opened her eyes. Where was she? Some kind of storeroom. Everything looked unfamiliar. She saw the merc grunt outfit lying on the bed next to hers. Boone. All was well, she was with Boone, probably on a mission somewhere and just staying in some abandoned place for the night. He was probably outside checking the perimeter. Reassured, she fell back into a heavy sleep.

Vulpes looked out over the darkened wasteland, tiny lights from distant settlements twinkling faintly in the distance. The fires he had lit in Nipton, the day he had met the Courier, were long dead and Nipton was now a dark spot in the valley. He turned to the south-east. No lights in that direction, except... what was that? An odd greenish glow. He squinted, trying to ascertain its shape. It appeared to be moving... almost like a man. Vulpes remembered that there was an old nuclear test site over there. And where there were test sites, there were often ghouls. He made a note to himself to do something about that tomorrow. Maybe see if he could pick them off using the sniper rifle that was stashed in the safehouse.

That could wait. Right now he needed sleep. 

He put out the lantern and lay down on a spare bed. The room was dark and silent. He could hear his own heart beating, and he felt desperately lonely. He got up and went to lie next to the Courier. There wasn’t much room for two, so he put his arms around her and held her close. Lulled by the soft sound of her breathing, he fell asleep.

Sometime between 3 and 4 a.m, Vienna awoke again. The room was pitch black. Someone was sleeping with her - there were arms around her, holding her in a loose embrace, a forehead resting against her ear and warm breath on her neck. She heard slow, rhythmic breathing. 

She tentatively touched the body; muscular arms, a broad chest, a slim waist. Boone. She reached up and felt his face; she felt stubble, strong cheekbones, and very short hair. Definitely Boone. No smell of cigarettes and sweat, which was a bit unlike him. Huh. He must have taken a bath. 

But why was he in bed with her? Were they a couple now? They hadn’t been before, though she would have liked it to happen. He was just too messed up. She tried to think back over recent events but it was a blur. Her brain wasn’t working properly. She and her friends had attacked the fort, Boone had killed Caesar... then what? No images came. Had she gotten so drunk celebrating the death of Caesar that she’d lost hours, or maybe even days? Oh dear. Arcade was going to tease the hell out of her.

Vulpes was awake the instant she touched him. He stayed perfectly still, mimicking sleep, and resisting reacting to her hair tickling his cheek.

The Courier was feeling his body. Then her hand moved up and she gently caressed his face. He was electrified, but kept his breathing even. She turned to face him in the darkness, and stroked his hair. 

Then, holding the back of his head, she leaned forward and lightly kissed his lips.

Vulpes was in shock for a split second, then, recovering himself, tightened his embrace around her and returned her light kiss. She murmured, “Mmm,” and placed small tender kisses across his face, on his eyes, his ear, his jaw line and his neck. She nuzzled his neck and kissed his collarbone. He exhaled slowly, feeling true pleasure. 

With one hand he stroked her hair and with the other pulled her closer to him. She ran her hand slowly down his shoulder then down his chest, following it with warm kisses. Vulpes put his finger under her chin and tilted her face to his. He kissed her mouth, and she parted her lips slightly. He licked the insides of her lips. Her tongue met his, and they kissed deeply, each tongue caressing the other. 

Vulpes was in bliss. 

She felt his hard cock pulsing against her belly. Vienna reached down and touched it. What the... it was astronomic. She had seen Boone naked a few times, most recently when they went swimming in Lake Mead, and he had looked fairly normal, maybe on the largish side but nothing like this. She’d heard that some men’s penises increased size enormously when erect, Boone must be one of those, she surmised. Wow. Nice talent. Pity he’d been keeping it to himself all this time.

Feeling her hand on his cock Vulpes’ passion redoubled. She broke their kiss, and he was momentarily disappointed, but then she whispered to him, her lips brushing his ear, “I’ve wanted you for so long.” Vulpes blinked. She had certainly kept that secret well. He wondered if she was still delirious, or if it was the drugs making her act this way. No matter, he wasn’t going to turn down what she was offering.

She kissed down his chest again, and this time kept going downwards. Her tongue drew a line up the shaft of his cock. Then her hot, moist mouth enclosed the head of it and he almost lost his mind. She sucked, stroking underneath it with her tongue as she did so. Vulpes shuddered in ecstasy. Then, too soon, she released it and came back up to meet his lips again.

Kissing her with unrestrained passion, Vulpes eased her onto her back. His fingers found her wetness and started to caress the mouth of her sex, then her clitoris. He moved his mouth to her breast, taking in as much as he could and sucking gently, his tongue swirling around her nipple. She was stroking his hair, and panting softly in time with the movement of his fingers. He felt her clitoris start to swell. Taking her cue, he kissed his way down her belly, to her clit. His fingers slid inside her as he sucked her clit and massaged it with his tongue. It swelled more, and her breathing started to become fast. 

“If you keep doing that I’m going to come,” she whispered shakily. He kept doing it. She began to moan, and Vulpes felt her interior muscles contract powerfully around his fingers. Her orgasm swept through her, starting from her clit and radiating outwards in waves. Vulpes could hold back no longer, and positioning himself above her he entered her forcefully.

Vienna clutched Boone’s strong shoulders as she took the impacts. The man had a cock like a mini-nuke, and the explosive energy to go with it. He was going frighteningly deep. She felt a second orgasm on its way. That was a new thrill, she had never had multiple orgasms before, well not with a man anyway. 

Vulpes wanted to smash into her but held himself back so as not to scare her. He went as slowly as he could, which wasn’t very slow. She felt so good around him, he never wanted it to end. He could not stop himself however; after a few minutes he started coming uncontrollably, and for a few seconds could not maintain his rhythm. Spent, he paused for a moment then picked up the pace again. One was not going to be enough, he needed more. 

This is how it should be, he thought as he made love to her. Why would anyone want a slave when they could have this? But then, they couldn’t have this. He took her mouth in an urgent kiss, licking her tongue, she returned the favour. He felt her breasts moving against his chest, her nipples tracing little circles. Suddenly she sucked hard on his tongue, squeezed intensely hard on his cock and, gasping, he came again, and she with him. 

Neither wanted to talk. They held each other and kissed more, gradually slowing in pace as they became sleepier. 

Vulpes felt something akin to joy, an emotion he was only vaguely acquainted with. Sex with someone who actually wanted him trumped all his previous experiences. From now on, it would be the only way he did it. He would make a secure home for her, she would bear him sons. They would be happy.

For her part Vienna was also joyful. Her wounded, haunted friend Boone had finally overcome his demons and opened up to her love. He could let go all the awful things that had happened and start afresh. At last, they would be happy.

Vulpes and Vienna slept peacefully together, their limbs entwined.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Vulpes awoke first, with that strange excited feeling in his chest again, the one he had first felt on the Strip, like his heart had tripled in size. He was lying on his side behind her, she facing away, still fast asleep. His underside arm was around her waist, holding her close. He stroked her hip. She stirred slightly but didn’t awaken. He kissed the back of her neck. The scent of her skin and the feel of her buttocks against his hips made him instantly harden. 

Trying not to wake her, as it was still early, he slipped his hand between her legs, finding her still moist from the night before. He languorously slid his fingers through the warm, silky folds, up and down, loving the sensation. Very softly he inserted two fingers inside her. She was hot and wet inside, and it made him feel crazy. He pushed his cock into the folds, and suppressed a gasp of pleasure as he felt his manhood slide smoothly into her.

Vienna half-woke at the sudden intrusion. Last night came back to her... Mmm. Her eyes were bleary and she closed them again, reveling in the beautiful sensations Boone was arousing in her with his slowburn thrusting. She began to purr.

Hearing her moan, Vulpes had to work hard to keep the same slow pace. His arms were tightly around her, the fingers of one hand on her nipple and the fingers of the other caressing her clit. He worked it until she gave a low cry and he felt her orgasm crushing his cock. At that he pushed her onto her belly and pulled her hips up, her face in the mattress and her ass in the air. Spreading her cheeks he entered her roughly, then rammed into her, pounding brutally until he felt himself release. 

Taking the full force of his assault and leaning into it, Vienna was in ecstasy. It was criminal that Boone had been off the market for so long. The man was a god. The thrusting eventually became erratic and he stopped, breathing hard. She turned to say something to him, and looked straight into the steel grey eyes of Vulpes Inculta. 

The blood changed direction in Vienna’s veins.

Her words died in her throat as she took in her radically changed situation. Three possible scenarios flashed through her mind. The first, and least likely, was that last night had been only a dream. It had felt pretty real, though. The second possibility was that the man with her last night had been Vulpes Inculta all along. That would mean she was probably alone here, and likely no one knew where she was. That was disturbing enough, but the last possibility was dreadful; that it had in fact been Boone, and he was now lying somewhere nearby in a pool of blood.

Vulpes, sitting back on his haunches, looked down at her affectionately. She truly was beautiful, he thought. She spoke and her voice was a dry croak.  
“Where’s Boone.”  
Particles of disappointment flooded Vulpes’ brain, and the light in his eyes dimmed. She had been out of her mind after all, and last night had not been real for her in the way it had been for him. That meant... she would probably attack him any second now. He steeled himself, ready for what he knew was coming.

Without waiting longer for an answer Vienna lunged at him, punching, biting, scratching and trying to headbutt him. Infuriatingly, he seemed able to anticipate her every move. He gained purchase on her wrists and to her anguish she was unable to break them free. She should ordinarily have, but the illness had rendered her weaker than she realised. She twisted this way and that, seeing red, screaming in frustration. 

Grimacing, Vulpes held her down with one knee on her chest, and his hands holding her wrists above her head. By Mars she was strong. She was trying to buck him off but her weakened leg was hindering her. He waited, letting her struggle. She was burning too much energy and would tire soon. From her mouth were coming the most unladylike utterances.  
“Fuck YOU!” she bellowed, so loudly her voice was cracking. “You fucking RAT BASTARD!” she screamed.  
Vulpes couldn’t help smiling. Rat bastard? What a quaint expression. She was really so cute. He would kiss her if she wouldn’t bite his face off.

She suddenly went still and limp. Vulpes waited, knowing she was faking. After a time he shifted his weight slightly, pretending to believe she was abandoning the fight. She jerked up, making a massive effort to buck him off. Ha ha, silly Courier. So easy to read. She struggled on, but he could feel her becoming weaker. Once he assessed that she had little enough strength left, he flipped her onto her belly, sat on her, and holding one arm twisted behind her back, reached down to the floor for the ropes he had bound her with on arrival. She bucked violently and he lost his balance, falling onto the floor elbow first, scrambling to get back up. 

Vienna gasped in pain. That last effort had cost her. A searing pain shot through her from her injured knee. The wound had closed but there was still residual damage that would take time to heal, and it would not heal if she kept making moves like that. The stab of pain was so shocking that she could not capitalise on her brief advantage, and Vulpes leapt onto her, pushing her facedown and securing his grip once more.

“You are adorable,” he breathed, close to her ear. Vienna jerked her head back, trying to headbutt him backwards. He dodged her and planted a surprise kiss on her ear. 

The sound of the kiss, amplified by proximity to her ear, reminded her all too vividly of the events of the previous night and earlier that morning. She had held him, kissed him, made love to him. She cringed. Oh god, had she even said she loved him? What must he have thought of that.

“Where’s Boone?” she asked hopelessly, and suddenly she was fighting herself not to cry. 

“He sold you to me,” answered Vulpes. It was a cruel lie, but she needed to forget about her oversized guard dog. He wanted her to feel as alone as he felt. That no one loved her. Then, maybe, she would come to appreciate the affection he could show her. He started carefully tying her wrists together.

She didn’t really believe him, but even the possibility of it being true was so appalling that Vienna was speechless. Then she realised that if it was true, it meant Boone probably wasn’t dead. That was a small comfort. 

“Bullshit. He would never, in a _million years_ do that,” she said. “You must not know him at all.”  
“Perhaps it is you who does not know him,” said Vulpes softly.  
“You’re bluffing.”  
Vulpes leaned down and looked into her eyes.  
“If he cares for you, where is he?” he asked; and Vienna could not answer.


	8. Chapter 8

Vulpes bound her ankles and propped her into a sitting position at the head of the bed, with her wrists secured to the metal bedframe behind her. He poured a glass of water and helped her drink it. She drank it all, and a second one.  
“I wish I did not have to tie you up like this,” he said. “However, while naked wrestling with you is a delightful diversion, it’s not one I wish to do all day.”  
“Put a shirt on then.”  
Vulpes smiled thinly.  
“Untie me, I’ll be good.”  
Vulpes laughed. He put on his tunic, went over to the other side of the room and started looking through the boxes and sacks piled there, wondering how long their supplies would last.

“Will you at least answer some questions for me?” Vienna asked. “Please,” she added as an afterthought.  
She wasn’t sure how much use asking Vulpes Inculta questions would be, since he was as tricky as a snake in water and it was impossible to tell when he was lying, but it couldn’t hurt, and she was desperate to find out what the hell was going on. 

He didn’t answer and kept sorting through the boxes. She waited. He seemed to be taking an inventory of foodstuffs, putting anything edible into a separate sack. After a long time he finished what he was doing and came over to sit by her. 

Saying nothing, he reached out and stroked Vienna’s hair. Then he surprised her by lying down next to her, with his arm around her thighs and his head in her lap. His eyes closed and he breathed deeply through his nose, seeming to want to smell her. Well this is unexpected, thought Vienna, watching him curiously. He seems to have some sort of crush on me.

“How long have I been here?” she asked, looking down at his still form. He radiated heat. His strong body was sleek and lithe. If he hadn’t been her worst enemy, she could have found him quite attractive.  
He replied without opening his eyes. “Two days.”  
“Where are we?”  
No reply.  
“Are there other Legion men here?”  
Pause. “No.”  
“I know Caesar is dead. So why are you keeping me here, Vulpes?” she said softly.  
Again there was no reply.  
“Why don’t I remember the last two days?” she persisted.  
“You don’t remember the last four days.”  
This was news. “Because..?”  
“You were hurt.” He paused. “I shot you, the wound got infected, and you came close to death,” he said matter-of-factly.

Vulpes stroked her thigh, admiring its silky feel. He was at a loss. How to gain her affection? He had not fully thought this through. He should have let her go at the fort, and approached her later. Caesar was already dead so it would have made no difference to the fate of the Legion. Now he had to fight from an inordinately difficult position, first overcoming her fury at his having kidnapped her, then her aversion to him as a Legionary, and only then could he try to win her heart. Well, he had waged war with such poor odds in the past and come out victorious.

He thought back over the events of the previous night. The Courier had been everything he had dared to dream. And this morning, he had fucked her like an animal, and she had been so appreciative, matching his rhythm and pushing back into him with every thrust. It had been perfect. How to get back there?

Then Vulpes had a very dark idea. The drugs case. It contained all kinds of drugs including mood-altering substances. He got up, and went over to the case. Looking in it he saw quite a few items that might be of use. Six canisters of Jet, two of Psycho, a small bottle of Absinthe, assorted other alcohol, some coyote tobacco chew and several boxes of Mentats. He had never used such banned drugs but was aware of the effects of them by having seen other people on them. Women, in particular, seemed to have an affinity for Jet. It made them relaxed and uninhibited. And horny. 

“I can offer you a choice, my little Courier,” Vulpes said over his shoulder. He turned to face her. “Since I cannot trust you to behave if I untie you as you are, you can either stay bound or, if you wish, you can take this and I will release you.” He held up a canister of Jet.

Vienna blinked. A hardcore Legion man, with banned drugs? Or maybe he just wanted her to use it and wouldn’t dream of having any himself.  
“Are you going to have any too?” she asked curiously.  
Vulpes considered it. There were no rules anymore, and he had already drunk whisky and enjoyed it. “Do you wish me to join you?” he asked.  
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.

They eyed each other, each calculating that they would be able to keep their head better than the other, once under the influence of the drug.  
Vienna planned her escape.  
Vulpes planned how he would prevent her escape; the upstairs door was locked and she didn’t know where the key was, which was a good start.


	9. Chapter 9

Vienna was almost as inexperienced with mood-altering drugs as Vulpes was. She had used Mentats and Buffout on various occasions for specific tasks, she occasionally chewed Coyote Tobacco if she needed to pull an all-nighter, and she was very fond of a glass of whiskey in the evenings if nothing too much else was going on, but Jet and Psycho were infamously nasty drugs and she had only ever carried them as light and valuable trade items, never for personal use. Like Vulpes, she didn’t generally fancy the idea of being out of her mind. 

But this situation was unique. She had a chance to escape if Vulpes untied her. There was no chance of getting loose by herself; like everything else the damned man did, his knots were extremely proficient and her hands were tied precisely tightly enough to be impossible to get free, without cutting off her circulation. But once he untied her... the odds weren’t great for her if they went up against each other unarmed, he had proved that already, but if she could just get her hands on a weapon... and there were lockers nearby that almost certainly contained ordnance of one sort or another.

Vulpes flicked the radio on and went to rummage in the food supply sack. He took out dried Bighorner meat for himself, and fed her a couple of Fancy Lads Snack Cakes. The radio played _Why Don’t You Do Right,_ one of Vienna’s favourite songs. They ate in silence for a while, Vienna scanning the room’s contents and layout, Vulpes watching her. 

“The woman raises a valid point, you know,” said Vienna.  
Vulpes gave her a querying look.  
“Why _don’t_ you do right?”  
“Ha. Ha. You don’t know the meaning of right,” sneered Vulpes.  
“And you do? You wouldn’t know right if it bit you in the ass,” she muttered.  
Vulpes watched her mildly. It didn’t bother him that she was being petulant - anyone would be, in the position she was in.  
“So, were you sticking it to me the whole time we’ve been here?” asked Vienna, though half of her really didn’t want to know.  
Vulpes shrugged. “Shouldn’t I have?”  
There was no point answering that and Vienna mentally cursed him. The man was utterly infuriating. 

She tried to stare him down, but Vulpes could beat a cactus at that game and she gave up, instead looking at his body. Maybe he, too, had injuries that she could exploit. His tunic hid his torso but his hands, arms and legs, though a little scratched, looked to be in pretty fine condition. She looked at his face. No broken nose, no significant visible damage to be found. His face was actually very handsome, and she marvelled again, as she had every time she’d met him in the past, that a person so hideous could be so beautiful. 

Vulpes didn’t mind her staring at him. He wanted her to; he’d missed her gaze when she’d been delirious, and he knew that his eye contact, and his physicality, had a powerful effect on people. Lucius used to tease him about it, calling it “sex appeal.” Vulpes preferred to call it “charisma.” 

When she finished her Snack Cakes, Vulpes went over to the drugs cache. “You ready?” he asked.  
“Sure,” she replied, focusing on him so she wouldn’t give herself away by glancing at the weapons lockers or the stairs. 

Vulpes approached her with a canister of Jet, sat close, and without warning held her mouth and nose closed for nearly a minute, before pressing the nozzle into her mouth as she gasped for breath. That made sure she didn’t cheat. Then he sat back and watched her carefully. He felt a strange thrill of illicit behaviour. One week ago he would never have imagined he would be hidden away here, giving banned hallucinogens to a naked Courier. It felt transgressive yet delightful.

The effect hit Vienna almost immediately. A warm, tingling sensation spread through her torso, up her spine and into her brain, and everything in the room suddenly looked brighter, different and more interesting. A wide grin appeared on her face without her being aware of it. 

“Oh man, you have got to try this!” she said, her eyes glowing.  
“Do you like it?”  
“Yeah, it’s... I gotta say, it’s not like I thought it’d be at all!”  
“In what way?” Vulpes asked.  
“I dunno, you see all these Jet junkies around, and they look, you know, so fucked up, they look like they’re not having any fun at all, but this is seriously fun!” gabbled Vienna. “Hey you said you’d untie me.”  
“I will.”  
“And you said you would have some too,” she chirped happily, looking at everything around her with big eyes. She felt like a bumblebee surrounded by flowers; and the biggest, most beautiful flower was right in front of her.  
“Honey dew,” she said, attracting a raised eyebrow from Vulpes.  
“You’re full of pollen!” she cried and started laughing hysterically.

Vulpes estimated it was safe to untie her. He wasn’t so sure it was a good idea to try any Jet himself though. She seemed to be as high as a kite. Leaning past her, he removed her bonds. She took the opportunity to steal a kiss on his shoulder. He looked at her sharply but her daydreamy smile was innocence embodied. 

Freed of the bindings, Vienna then did something Vulpes had never in his life seen anyone happy enough to do. She actually bounced on the bed.  
“Wooo-ey!” she squealed, bouncing up and down. She was still naked and Vulpes’ eyes were irresistibly drawn to her flying breasts. It was mesmerising.  
“C’mon try it!” she yelled.  
Vulpes wasn’t sure if she meant Jet, or bouncing. What the hell, he thought, seeing her expression of bliss. He’d try both.

Getting another canister, he breathed some in, but made sure not to breathe the full contents. The effect on him was not as he imagined it either. It made him feel as light as air, and everything around him look beautiful and fascinating. Even the floor looked interesting. The woman bouncing in front of him looked incredible, like a floating goddess. No wonder Jet junkies loved the stuff, he thought dazedly, their seedy hovels must have appeared as wondrous playlands.

He climbed on the bed with her and allowed her bouncing to carry him along. Time distorted; it felt like everything was happening in slow-motion. She was looking at him with such open joy, he started smiling, then laughing. They laughed and bounced together for a while, he couldn’t have said how long, then she bounced onto his lap. Without hesitation Vulpes kissed her. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Vienna flew amongst the flowers, alighting on the most beautiful one and tasting its sweet nectar. Her escape plan was entirely forgotten.  
“Buzzzz,” she said.

Vulpes was floating in clouds, and she was with him. She was sitting on his lap, still bouncing gently, her knees around his hips and her hands holding his head, looking into his eyes and kissing him. They were alone in the universe. His cock was hard, and dreamily he pulled his tunic off and positioned himself so she bounced right onto it. Her pussy was moist and ready, and she took it in and kept right on bouncing.  
“Buzzzzzzzzzzz,” she breathed, sliding up and down on him. He lay back on his cloud, abandoning all control. The feeling was incredible. Vienna’s eyes were closed and her head had fallen back, her long hair tickling his thighs. In a trance, he watched her breasts slo-mo up and down as she rode him.

Time flew or crawled past. He started to want to taste her. Sitting up he took her in his arms and laid her on her back. He spread her legs wide apart and buried his face in her sex, pushing his tongue into her. She buzzed happily. Eventually he pulled back to take a breath, and gazed at her pussy from two inches away. It was like a rose, he thought.

He pushed two fingers into her, finding her wet and relaxed. He made it three, then four. They slid easily in. She was stroking the back of his head with one hand. With the other she took his hand and urged him in. He pushed deeply, and felt her give. He added his thumb, and pushed again. It went further. Slightly swiveling his wrist he gently pushed harder. His hand slid slowly into her, almost stopping as his knuckles squeezed passed her entrance, then sliding in till he was enclosed up to his wrist. He looked up at her. Her eyes were closed and she was purring, a look of transcendental bliss on her face. He pulled his hand all the way out, then pushed back in again. This time it went further. She moaned in pleasure. He gently fistfucked her, her cunt stretched beautifully tightly around his muscled forearm. 

“You are mine,” he whispered.


	10. Chapter 10

Sunlight slanted in from the skylights in the room above. The radio began to play _In the Shadow of the Valley_. Somewhere a single fly buzzed lazily around. 

_In the shadow of the valley_  
 _I would like to settle down_  
 _Wide open space_  
 _Wind on my face_  


Vulpes, having had the smaller dose, was first to regain his normal senses. He immediately realised she couldn’t be far behind, and briefly debated whether it would be a good idea to let her find him with his forearm embedded in her. Probably not. It remained to be seen if she would remember for herself or not. But maybe, maybe it was a good idea to keep fucking her. That way she would get used to him, maybe even start to appreciate his skill. 

He carefully withdrew his hand from her and moistened his cock with it. Then he climbed up and took her missionary-style, kissing her lips as he did so. The dreamy expression on her face said that she was still in the clouds. Placing light kisses on her face, he moved in and out of her evenly, like a well-oiled piston. He wanted her to awaken to good sex. As she had this morning... although that hadn’t gone so well, but never mind. She had gotten a fright that time, this time would be different. He closed his eyes and concentrated on maintaining a perfect rhythm.

_You have always waited for me_  
 _And you always will be there_  
 _Sage brush and pine_  
 _Old friends of mine_  


Vienna started to come to, the jet wearing off almost as suddenly as it had come on. She felt dizzy but good. Everything returned to what it usually was, except something had subtly altered. All her worries had drifted away and vanished. None of the urgent matters that had been weighing so heavily on her seemed as important as they once had. The fate of the Mojave? Pff, it could take care of itself. Boone? He’d be fine. In any event he wasn’t her problem to solve. Her oh-so-terrible enemies? Well Caesar was dead - yowzer! - and Vulpes Inculta, hell, maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. Well no, she admitted to herself, he had been pretty impressively bad, but maybe now the Legion was gone he could find something less evil to occupy his time. 

Meanwhile, in the corporeal world, something felt good. Vulpes was on top of her, and inside her. His face was above hers and he was intermittently placing soft kisses on her lips, cheeks and eyes. This state of affairs didn’t alarm her in the slightest; in fact it felt perfect.

Plus, for once he wasn’t looking at her; his eyes were closed, allowing her to examine him, unhindered by his usual unnerving gaze. 

He was truly handsome, she thought. No other guy in the wasteland came close. He looked older than he was, but it did his looks no harm. His skin was smooth over incredible bone structure; prominent cheekbones, and a strong jaw. His lips were sensuous. His chocolate brown hair was thick and soft. His neck and shoulders were strong without being over-built. Even his ears were cute.

These were not even his best features - the hypnotic light eyes and mellifluous voice were his killer touches. 

She remembered how Arcade had blushed furiously when they’d first met Vulpes Inculta at Nipton. They’d spoken to him and then Vulpes had left, before she and Arcade had seen the full extent of the massacre. Perhaps Arcade wouldn’t have had the hots for him if he’d seen the bodies piled behind the houses first. As it was, Arcade had made a whole series of gushing, silly remarks and Vulpes had looked at him like he was a molerat with halitosis. 

Vienna giggled. Maybe she was still a little high.

Vulpes opened his eyes and saw her looking directly at him, an amused smile on her face.  
“How are you feeling?” he asked tentatively.  
“I’m feeling fanfuckingtastic,” averred Vienna, leaning forward to kiss him.

Vulpes met the kiss, and, holding her tightly, rolled over onto his back so she was on top of him. He wanted to show that he trusted her. In fact he didn’t trust her, but he was willing to make the first move towards a truce. He felt she had earned it. He could always subdue her again if it came to that.

Vienna sat up. The vertical position pushed her down harder onto him. It felt good. The man had a gift.  
“So,” she said.  
Vulpes reached forward and took her hands in his. They held hands and looked at each other silently for a while, both in their own personal disbelief at the unexpected turn of events. She couldn’t believe she had stopped hating him. She actually, kind of, almost liked him.  
He couldn’t believe his mad plan had worked. Unless she was acting.  
“So,” he said.

“I have just one question for you, o Vulpes Inculta of Utah, Scourge of the South, Mutilator of the Mojave.”  
“So you know my true title,” he deadpanned.  
She snickered. “Are you going to answer?”  
“You haven’t asked me anything yet.”  
She leaned close. “Could it be that the big, bad wolf has a big, bad crush on little old red riding hood?” she teased.  
Vulpes gave a twisted smile and snorted.

“How long have you harboured these ardent feelings for me?” she enquired, still smiling mock-coyly.  
Vulpes watched her batting her eyelashes at him and thought she looked like one of the whorish women in _Cat’s Paw_. The thought was annoying but made his cock throb inside her nonetheless, which made him feel like a hypocrite and was even more annoying.  
“Hmm?” she pressed. She placed a kiss on his forehead.  
“Since the day I met you,” he said.  
“In Nipton?” Vienna was taken by surprise. He hadn’t seemed to show too much interest in her that day. He hadn’t tried to kill her, though... maybe that was his idea of heavy flirting.

An unreadable expression flitted across Vulpes’ face. Without answering, he sat up and gripped her tightly, then lifted her slowly up and slammed her down on him, making her yelp. He repeated the action, and built up a rhythm, lifting her and smashing her down, his face pressed to her neck, breath hot on her throat. 

Vienna was not a small woman but he made her feel like a rag doll in the jaws of a mongrel. She held on to his shoulders, gasping for breath as he crushed her chest in his arms and pounded her body down onto his massive cock. He was growling like a mongrel too, and Vienna was embarrassed to realise that she was mewling like a kitten.

The rhythm got faster until he abruptly stopped, panting, his head bowed against her chest.  
“You... make me feel...” he said, and stopped as though searching for the right word.  
She kissed the top of his head. “Better?” she suggested.  
“I was going to say ‘insane’. But ‘better’ is also true,” he replied.

Vulpes lifted her off him and got off the bed. He went to the water supply and, ignoring her, washed himself, taking time to be thorough. When he was finished he wordlessly handed her the basin and a fresh washcloth, and went to look at their food supplies again.

There was not enough food to last long. Maybe another day and a half, depending how hungry she was. There was a good supply of maize but it had gotten damp, presumably on its delivery route, and gone bad. Which would be the delivery man’s fault. Atticus.

Thinking of Atticus made Vulpes feel a prickle on the back of his neck. He was a liability, and should not have been allowed to leave. But it’s not easy to kill a man straight after he has cooked you dinner. Especially when you would not be killing him for something he has done, but something he merely _might_ do.

He watched Vienna washing herself, then handed her a spare tunic from the uniforms locker. She put it on and laughed. It was tight across the breasts, very loose around the middle and tight again around the hips. Like his, it was also very short.  
“This is just a shirt,” she said, trying to pull it down further. “And a man’s one at that,” she added, brushing at the excess cloth around the waist. “Where are my things?”  
“Your clothes are destroyed,” he said, pointing with his chin to a pile in the corner. She inspected the slashed Recon suit. He wasn’t kidding. Only her socks and boots were still intact.  
“I look like a Legionary in this shirt,” she muttered, trying again to stretch the rough fabric of the tunic downwards.

Vulpes looked at her and thought she looked edible. Going over, he dropped to his knees before her and pushed the tunic up a few inches, exposing her hair. He leaned his forehead against her pelvic bone, and pushed a finger into her sex, relishing the sensation of warmth and moisture. “ _Labia_ ,” he whispered. He parted her legs slightly and began to lick her labia, then slid his fingers inside her. “You are Venus,” he murmured, his voice muffled as he licked her again. His tongue made long strokes upwards, each ending right on her clit, and her knees started to tremble. With his other arm he supported her as he licked, his strokes smooth and consistent. 

Vienna wondered how a man of the Legion, especially one who was so violently opposed to whoring, could have become so good at... what... he... was... she couldn’t finish the thought as a fast, surging orgasm melted her circuitry and she lost her balance. He caught her and carried her to the bed, sitting her down gently. 

He sat next to her and gave her a serious look. “Sometime between now and this time tomorrow I must go out, and leave you here, and during that time I must tie you up again,” he said.  
“For how long?”  
“It depends how long it takes me to acquire what we need. Several hours at least. Maybe half a day. We need significant food supplies, and I have... burned my bridges at the nearest settlements.”  
She considered this and its implications. “How long do you intend to keep me a prisoner Vulpes?” she asked quietly.

He stared at her for a long time. Eventually he got up, collected some items from the supply sack and went out.

The radio played _Lone Star_ , which was entirely the wrong mood for the moment.


	11. Chapter 11

Vulpes made a fire and prepared a Brahmin stew with jalapeno peppers. He thought about the question the Courier had asked him. He didn’t know the answer, but he knew that he couldn’t let her go. 

Vulpes’ mood, like hers, had changed. He no longer felt a burning urge to punish her. His only care now was to matter to her.

It should be possible. She was a killer herself, like him. She hadn’t reached the heights he had, but no one could - he was the best at everything he did; it was a point of pride. Now the greatest challenge he could set himself was to make her love him. He smiled to himself, imagining how much that would make everyone in the Mojave’s toes curl. 

He thought about the other people the Courier loved. The braindead NCR drone. The smart-mouthed medic he had killed at the fort. The Brotherhood bitch he dearly wished he could also have killed. The red-haired alcoholic the Courier was often seen drinking with. The foul-smelling ghoul caballero. She loved almost at random it seemed. People just had to like her and she would like them back. She had a soft spot, and Vulpes had an idea he could exploit it. 

The fact that she had taken this gang of seemingly hopeless misfits and metamorphosed them into a devastatingly effective hit team was testament to her strategic prowess. If she had worked for the Legion – no, no point thinking of that. He was still alive, and he had her now. Together, what they could do. 

Downstairs, Vienna was trying nothing more ambitious than to wash her hair. Tricky, with only bowls available for washing, and the Legion’s complete unawareness of the existence of shampoo. She hunted through the unlocked cases and found Coyote Tobacco and Honey Mesquite pods. They would do. Emptying them into a bowl she crushed them together into a rough powder, and mixed it with a lot of water, stirring with her fingers. Letting it settle, she took a second bowl and decanted the brown water, discarding the sediment. On her knees on the floor, she bent forward and lowered her long hair into the Coyote Mesquite water, letting it soak in and squeezing it out. 

As she soaked and squeezed, she remembered with embarrassment how Vulpes had caressed it, seeming not to notice its dirty state. This led her to wonder at his attitude to her in general. Why was he so crazy about her? She wasn’t the Mojave’s best-looking woman. Taller than most, and well built, but nothing else spectacular. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind an epiphany that had struck her while she’d been high jingled its distant bell. She had understood then. She reached for it...

Yes...there was a symmetry. Vulpes had experienced his family being murdered and his entire tribe destroyed by the Legion. He himself had been captured as a slave and forced to fight for them. He had been just a child, he must have loved his family fiercely, every child did. And yet he had transferred his love to the Legion, so completely that he had become one of their top lieutenants, living and breathing Legion aims, caring nothing for himself.

He loved his vanquisher. That was it. Now she had destroyed the Legion, and his affection had transferred to her. This realisation hit her so hard she stared into space for a moment, wondering at the implications. If she was right, Vulpes would do anything and everything for her, and would never back down... unless or until someone killed her.

She rinsed her hair in clean water till it ran clear, dried it and went upstairs. She had not yet seen the rest of the building. Upstairs it was a single living room, with a large sofa and a coffee table. It was nicer than downstairs, with carpet and natural light. The outer door was open, and through it she saw Vulpes sitting on his heels by a fire, cooking something that smelled damn good. 

Outside, the sky was vast and blue. The safehouse was situated almost on top of a hill, and the view was breathtaking. She could see some Bighorners grazing not too far off. 

“Why don’t we just kill one of those for food?” she suggested, pointing at them.  
“No refrigeration,” said Vulpes shortly.  
“Oh, heh. Good point. Although right now I feel like I could eat a whole one,” she grinned.

She scanned the horizon, looking for landmarks, and soon recognized a large building in the middle distance, in the centre of a small town on the valley floor. Well well. Nipton Town Hall. That single location was enough for her to place herself mentally on a map. The Mojave Outpost would not be too far away.

“Know where you are now?” Vulpes asked.  
She hadn’t realised he was watching her. “I see Nipton, site of our momentous first meeting,” she said.  
“Hmm,” said Vulpes enigmatically.

They ate in silence, sitting on rocks, the stew tasting as good as it smelt. The sun was warm on their backs. Vulpes pretended to look at the view, so she could look at him. She took the bait, and he felt her gaze on him, warmer even than the sun.

Vulpes broke the silence. “I mentioned that I cared for you since the day we met. That was not in Nipton.”  
“I’m pretty sure I would remember you. Your voice is a dead giveaway,” she said, less certain than she sounded.  
“It was a long time ago.”  
She waited for him to continue, but he leaned back against the rock, looked up at the sky and said nothing.  
“Are you going to tell me, or..?” she prodded.  
“It was in Utah, when I was ten years old, not long before the Legion took me.”  
“Utah? Ten?” She gaped at him. Vulpes’ face betrayed nothing.  
“Ten? How old was I?”  
“You would have been about 17 at a guess.”  
“I think this is bullshit. You never met me.”  
Vulpes’ head came back up and he looked into her eyes. “I know your true name.”  
Vienna was stunned.  
Vulpes looked at the sky again. He spoke in the dreamy way people do when they recall old memories. “When I was ten, my family went to see the rodeo. _Bill Quantrill’s Traveling Rodeo Show_. At that time, it was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. They had a girl sharpshooter who could split a playing card on its side at 50 paces. She was also a bullrider and calf roper...” he drifted off, lost in the memory. “I was in awe of her. Afterwards, I got her autograph. Her name was Kate Quantrill.”  
Vienna didn’t know what to say.  
Vulpes turned his head and looked at her. “I never forgot your face,” he said softly.

Vienna was silent, and after a while Vulpes carried on. “When I saw you again in Nipton, I pretended to walk away, then I sent my men on and doubled back. I changed into plain clothes and followed you to the Mojave Outpost, where I sat near you at the bar and listened to your conversation with a drunkard. Without the doghead you did not recognise me. I heard you say that you were a courier with the Mojave Express, and then I left.” He paused. “Many Express couriers are Legion frumentarii in disguise, did you know that, Courier? I made some enquiries, and it was easy to find out what you had told the boss at the Express about your recent history.”  
“Which was?”  
“Which was that your father’s rodeo had been attacked on the road by raiders, and destroyed. You were left alone, and took the job as a courier, based on your extensive knowledge of the geography of the southwestern states, and your ability with a gun.”

Vienna did not know whether to believe him. It sounded as plausible as it was far-fetched. 

“Don’t believe me? I can prove it,” said Vulpes. “Along the road between Utah and New Vegas there are still old billboards advertising the rodeo. With your face on them. They are indistinct, but you will recognise yourself.” 

With that Vulpes got up and walked into the safehouse. Vienna stayed put, thinking about what he had said. 

Vulpes reappeared with the comb, and, sitting behind her, combed her drying waist-length hair, taking care not to pull. When he was finished he leaned forward and sniffed her hair. She had done something to it that made it smell wonderful. It was shining in the sun as it dried. He placed his hands on her shoulders, feeling electricity between his skin and hers. She was a queen, and Vulpes intended to be her king.

The revelation of her true identity was a shock and Vienna didn’t say anything for a while. Vulpes sat behind her, playing with her hair, trying to work out how she braided it in the complex way she sometimes did.

Eventually she spoke. “So that is why you never called me Vienna.”  
“Mm. I presumed ‘Vienna’ was just a stage name. Why did you choose it, by the way?” Vulpes asked, curious.  
“I don’t know, Doc Mitchell put me under pressure to make up a name to put on his records... When did my father die?” she asked suddenly.  
“I’m not sure exactly. Around five or six years ago.”  
Vienna felt sad. Her father was dead, and worse, she didn’t even remember him.  
“Do you know anything else about my family?” she asked, wishing she could trust him to tell the truth.  
“No. But if you like, maybe one day we could make a visit to Utah and see what we find out.”  
Vienna thought about that for a long time. Vulpes said nothing, letting her think. 

He stroked her hair, and after a while he let his hands run down her arms, admiring her sleek musculature. He took her right hand, lifted it and kissed her fingers. He opened her hand and kissed her palm. He kissed her trigger finger and then took it into his mouth, gripping it lightly between his teeth as explored its surface with his tongue. He wondered how many kills she had made with that angelic finger. Perfect kills, to the heart, or between the eyes. She was death in its most elegant form.

That thought made him so aroused he picked her up and carried her inside, falling onto the sofa with her on top of him. She laughed and he smiled back. He held her very tightly and kissed her hard, and she pretended to struggle, still laughing. 

Vienna liked Vulpes being playful. It was a side of him that seemed so unlikely; yet now she was experiencing it, it felt very natural. She tried to tickle him. He laughed and held her down, and then kissed her so tenderly it took her breath away.


	12. Chapter 12

Late in the afternoon, dressed in his merc grunt outfit and carrying two large empty hessian bags on one shoulder, his ripper on one hip and his Mauser on the other, Vulpes reached the town of Primm. He had two missions; acquire a decent supply of durable foodstuffs, and solve the Atticus problem. Permanently.

He had left the Courier tied to the bed downstairs in the safehouse, with a jug of water, Fancy Lads Snack Cakes, and some magazines and pre-war books to keep her occupied till she slept. Her wrists were tied separately, in such a way that she had plenty of movement to turn pages and reach the water, but each hand could not reach the other. He felt uneasy about leaving her tied up; if something happened to him, she would be in serious trouble. Or if anyone else with a key showed up. He simply had to make sure nothing happened to him. About the key, he could do nothing - other than leave her with a weapon, which he had considered and decided against, since she could use it to free herself.

He went first to the Vikki & Vance Casino. Given Atticus’ apparent predilection for boozing, it seemed likely he would know people there. There was a skinny blonde woman in a revealing dress slouched at the bar. Probably Atticus’ type. He leaned against the bar near her and pretended to be interested in gaining the bartenders’ attention. The woman glanced at him, then turned fully towards him and smiled.  
“Hey, handsome fella. Buy a gal a drink?”  
“Sure,” said Vulpes, making no effort to do so. “You live in this town?” he enquired.  
“For my sins.”  
“I’m looking for a man I know, maybe you know him, tall black man, beard,” Vulpes gestured the shape of Atticus’ goatee.  
She gave a guffaw. “You mean Jim? Ha ha, he had to get out of town. Peggy threw his ass out this morning, turned out he’d been whoring all over the Mojave. She was yelling her head off. Fuckin’ funny it was.”  
“Do you know where he went?”  
“Nope. He’s gone. Might as well have a drink to celebrate,” she said, wiggling her empty glass.  
Vulpes turned his back on her and left the bar.  
“Cheap-ass,” she muttered, low so he wouldn’t hear. You can’t be too sure. He looked like a mercenary.

Approaching the Mojave Express trade building he saw that the elderly owner and his wife were sitting out the front on chairs, smoking. He put a friendly expression on his face and approached them.  
“Good afternoon. I’m looking for Jim, but I’m told he left town. Did you happen to see which way he was heading?”  
“Hello young man. Yes, he left this morning, looked like he was heading south, maybe towards the Mojave Outpost,” said the old lady.  
Vulpes felt a cold chill in his spine. “Thank you,” he said, and walked away as though he was leaving town too.

He walked slowly, then stopped to rearrange his bags, sneaking a glance back at the old couple. They were not looking at him. He ducked around the corner to the back of their shop, and picked the lock on their supply room door. Filling his two sacks with preserved meats, noodles and other goodies, he exited the door and was confronted by a small boy with a toy cart.  
The boy blinked at him, saying nothing.  
“That is a fine cart you have there,” said Vulpes.  
“My daddy made it,” said the boy.  
“You are very lucky to have such a daddy,” said Vulpes, feigning surprise.  
The boy stared at him with a look of growing doubt. The thought had never occurred to him before that he might not have had such a daddy.  
“I have to go, say hello to your daddy for me now, won’t you?” said Vulpes, smiling.  
“Ok,” the boy said uncertainly.

Vulpes walked away with long strides, and, as soon as he was outside the town gates, ran directly south-south-east towards the safehouse, ignoring the road. The bags were heavy on his back, but they didn’t slow him. He had a bad feeling he knew where Atticus had gone.

It was a long run and the late afternoon was hot. As he passed Nipton Vulpes had to stop to drink water. He stared at the hillside leading up towards the safehouse, looking for any sign of movement, but saw nothing. 

Reaching the safehouse nearly an hour later, sweating from the uphill run, the door was closed and everything looked normal. Dropping the bags on the ground outside, he went to the door, and listened. No sound. He had left the door locked, but now found it unlocked. Bad. He went in and down the stairs. Before he even reached the last stair he could see the blood. 

The Courier was still tied to the bed – but there was a large pool of blood on the floor, and Atticus was lying face down in it, his head cracked open. The heavy water jug Vulpes had left her was lying next to the body.  
Ha. So he had left her a weapon after all. 

“I made a little mess,” she said in a voice with no inflexion.  
“Are you alright?” he asked, stepping over Atticus to go to her.  
She recoiled from his touch. “Your _charming_ friend here dropped by to try to rape me. And he seemed quite sure that it would be ok by you.”  
Vulpes’ stomach turned to ice. “What did he do?” he whispered.  
“He strolled in, started to talk shit, then he got grabby, told me that it was nothing new. Said that while I was unconscious you and he had a great old time with me,” she hissed, fury flashing from her eyes.

She suddenly spat at him. Vulpes took it without flinching. He felt that wave of nothingness which came over him at times of great stress begin to sweep through his bloodstream. His breathing became even and his voice became calm.  
“I allowed him to touch you when we first arrived here,” he admitted. “I was wrong to do so, but I was very... angry with you.”  
“Oh that’s nice. When you’re angry with people you let your friends rape them. Class act.”  
Vulpes tried to put his hand on her shoulder.  
“Get the FUCK away from me!” she screamed, wild with rage, jerking violently. 

Vulpes stared at her, then looked down.  
He felt strange – it was shame, something he had last felt as a child on occasions when he had made his mother cry. A long-forgotten emotion. This time it was heavily laced with frustration, and anger of his own. 

He picked up Atticus’ body, his tired muscles straining at the weight, and, heaving it over his shoulder, carried it up the stairs. Outside, night had begun to fall. He took the body some distance away and left it leaning against a rock. He would need to get rid of it properly the next morning before it decomposed. 

Going back inside, he lit a lamp and washed the water jug, putting it away out of her reach. Then he took a mop and cleaned the blood off the floor. It left a stain on the concrete.

He washed himself, and lay down on the spare bed next to hers. Neither of them spoke. The lamplight flickered on the ceiling and made strange shadows on the walls. The silence felt deep and suffocating. Vulpes felt almost ill. He desperately wanted to hold her. He had to heal the rift but he had no idea how to begin. 

He thought and thought. Hours passed, and the lamp burned down to a very low light, just a point of yellow in the darkness. He could not sleep, and he could tell from her breathing that she was awake too. Finally he spoke.

“I am sorry.”  
There was a long pause, then she spoke in a very quiet voice. “Little late for that.”  
Vulpes felt relief that she had answered him at all. He chose his words carefully. “I know what I did was wrong. But I don’t think you understand how angry I was.”  
She said nothing to that.  
“Lucius was my closest friend. He took care of me when I was a new recruit. He was like an older brother to me. And Caesar was like a father.”  
Silence.  
“They were killed on your orders. And with them went everything I had been fighting for, for 16 years. Do you understand why that would enrage me?”  
She said nothing for a long time. Then she said, “Yes.”  
After a while she added, “And so you expect me to forgive you?”  
“I have forgiven you,” Vulpes answered.

Vienna thought about that. Could the two things cancel each other out? They were very different actions. The Legion leaders had known they were destined for death. No one could wage the war they had without expecting to gain enemies like herself. Whereas Vulpes’ actions against her... he had shot her, that was fair enough, but then kidnapped her, raped her and even let someone else rape her. It was that last one that she found hard to reconcile. The first three were horrible but, in the context of total, bloody war, not outside the bounds of reason. But Atticus had had no business touching her, in any circumstances. 

“I understand your anger and I even forgave you for everything, before I found this out... but why should I forgive you for letting some man use me, who owes no particular grudge against me?” she asked.  
“It was a mistake,” Vulpes conceded.  
“A pretty bad mistake.”  
“Yes.”  
“I don’t think I can forgive you for it,” she said honestly.  
Vulpes felt his heart become impossibly heavy. It felt like it might fall through his chest. “You have to.”  
“No, I don’t.”

Vulpes rolled off the bed and went to her side. He kneeled by her and took her hand, pressing it against his bowed forehead. He closed his eyes tightly.  
“Please, Kate,” he whispered. 

She said nothing and didn’t move. They stayed like that, in silence, till Vienna felt a hot then cool tickle on her hand. Tears. Vulpes was silently crying. 

Vienna said softly, “Can you untie me please.”  
Vulpes didn’t move for a moment. Then without looking at her face he untied her, and went and sat on the floor by the wall, with his head hung low between his bent knees, and his arms over his head. He made no sound and was very still. He was crying his eyes out; not just for her, but for his lost friends, his lost honour, and his destroyed future.

Seeing him like that, Vienna was torn. She was furious with him, yet he looked so forlorn that her instinct was to comfort him. She forced herself to be still and not to go to him. 

An hour passed and neither moved. Then Vulpes got up and lay down on the bed, on his side, facing away from her.  
He gripped his hands together so tightly his entire strength went into it. After a long time his grip weakened and he fell into an exhausted sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

Vulpes dreamt he was in the desert. She was with him but a dust storm was swirling around them, the wind becoming so strong and the dust so thick he was losing sight of her. He called but his voice was stolen by the maelstrom. He screamed to her, but she pulled a cloth over her face that was the same colour as the dust, and became invisible. He tried to run to where she had been but the sand beneath him became quicksand, sucking his feet down. He dug his hands into the sand and tried to crawl, but he was sinking.

Vienna could not sleep. She heard Vulpes’ breathing change when he fell asleep, and decided to make a run for it. Nothing could be resolved by staying here. She slipped out of bed, and feeling her way, crept to the stairs. Her bare feet on the concrete stairs made no sound at all. At the top moonlight filtered through the skylights. She tried to open the door but it was barred. She felt around and lifted the bar away, moving it infinitesimally slowly so as not to bump it, then opened the door as slowly and silently as she could. 

Once outside she left the door resting on the latch but didn’t close it fully, to avoid making any sound. She looked around, wondering briefly which way to go. The moonlight was strong and she could see the hillside sloping down towards the road clearly. There was no cover. If she ran that way Vulpes would be able to see her for up to an hour before she reached enough distance to fade away. In the opposite direction there was a lot of cover, large rocky outcroppings, and some kind of abandoned building not too far off. She chose it and started to run, the ground rough under her feet.

Vulpes slept uneasily; he had the subconscious feeling something was wrong. A little twinge in his brain was urging him to wake up. The air in the room had suddenly become very slightly cooler.

Running across rocks, Vienna aimed for the dark building, to put it between her and the safehouse. She could not run as fast as normal, her injury had left her with a slight limp. As she neared the building, a movement to her left caught her eye. The shape of a man. She ran faster, hurting herself but boosted by an adrenaline rush. The man ambled towards her in a strange jerky manner, arms outstretched. It was not Vulpes; it was not even a man, she realised with horror. It was a feral ghoul. 

Unarmed and almost naked against a feral ghoul she would be in trouble. They didn’t fight nicely. She burned every bit of energy she had and ran flat out, ignoring her knee sending warning pains shooting up her leg. Another shape appeared to her left, and now one to her right. Go straight, go, go, she screamed silently at herself. They ran slowly, and she saw she could make it. She was getting past them. They weren’t smart enough to run to where she was heading, but instead ran directly at her and ended up chasing her wake.

“Ha ha ha!” she puffed victoriously, sprinting ahead. The ground had evened out and she was making good progress. 

As she passed the building, however, her luck ran out. A towering Glowing One emerged from its far side and, taking huge strides, caught her hair in its grasp, jerking her backwards to the ground. 

Vulpes’ eyes snapped open. 

Vienna frantically wrenched herself free from the Glowing One’s grasp, losing a small clump of hair in the process. She scrambled to her feet and launched herself away but was caught by another ghoul who had emerged from the shadow of the building. There were four ferals on her now, plus the Glowing One. They wrestled her to the ground, and she shrieked, jerking and kicking hysterically, trying to prevent any of them taking a bite. 

But they weren’t trying to bite her. They were doing something much more creepy. They were feeling her; holding her down, running disgusting sticky hands all over her. Clammy fingers went in her mouth. She bit down and severed them, spitting them out and retching at the nauseating taste of rotted flesh. 

The Glowing One was looming over her. Watching. The drooling ferals were groping and grasping at every part of her body, and she involuntarily began to scream through clenched teeth. This seemed to trigger something in the Glowing One; it let out a howl and bent down to crouch on top of her. The others leaned back to give it room.

A shot rang out and one side of the Glowing One’s head exploded. It fell sideways, and the feral ghouls leapt up and ran in confused circles. A second _bang_ and one of the ghouls dropped to its knees, then fell on its face. Vulpes appeared out of the darkness, his face ferocious, lashing out with his ripper and hacking at them as they swarmed him. He ducked and skipped, stabbing and slashing. Ghoul parts flew through the air. Vienna struggled to her feet then vomited and sat down again, feeling too unsteady to stand, but unable to look away from the macabre ballet Vulpes was dancing. 

Two more down. The last ghoul on its feet was a lethal one, fast moving and vicious. It snarled and pounced, going low, aiming at spilling Vulpes’ guts. Vulpes neatly sidestepped like a bullfighter, spinning and plunging his ripper into its back as it passed, twisting it to make a jagged hole. It crumpled to the ground, hissing and writhing.

There was a vile smell in the air. Vulpes did not wait around to see if more ghouls would make an appearance. He scooped Vienna up and ran up the steep rocky slope towards the safehouse, breathing hard. It was the second uphill run with a heavy load he’d had to do today. And the second body he’d had to carry. As the safehouse came into view he lost his footing and slipped heavily to his knees and elbows. He gasped with pain, but he didn’t drop her.

Locking the door and barring it behind them, he carried her downstairs to the water supply. Glowing Ones were dangerously radioactive and it was necessary to wash thoroughly after any encounter with them. Still panting slightly from his tremendous effort, he lit the lamp, scrubbed her, then himself. He used his Merc shirt to dry her, and helped her to lie down on the bed. He went to the drugs cache and took out a dose of Rad-Away, hooking the bag to the bedframe and inserting the needle attachment into a vein in her wrist, struggling to hold his hands steady as he did it. Once in, he wrapped a bandage around it to keep it in place.

Only then did he sit down and breathe. He glanced over his injuries: he was bleeding from several places, including his elbows where he had fallen on the jagged rocks. A pain in his side revealed itself to be a nasty gash. He didn’t remember getting it. His left forearm had four long scratches down it from a ghoul’s overgrown fingernails. He had some gouge marks on his right shoulder. Apart from that, he was just bruised, mildly irradiated, and stupendously tired. 

Vienna looked and felt very ill from the radiation exposure. She was nauseous and had a blinding headache. The Rad-Away would take a couple of hours to work, in the meantime she just had to ride it out. Vulpes gave her cup of water, and a bowl to throw up in. Her stomach was empty but she sporadically vomited up bile, and each time he washed the bowl and gave it back to her. She appreciated it but felt too sick to speak. 

Vulpes stared at the bloodstain on the floor, thinking about everything that had happened. What a long, bizarre day it had been. His efforts to make her love him had perversely resulted in him loving her a lot more... and her hating him worse than ever. This wasn’t working. He had to change tactics. He had to let her go, and start again.

After an hour or so, the headache and nausea receded enough for Vienna to mumble, “Thanks.”  
Vulpes didn’t reply but looked up at her. His eyes were tired and sad.  
Eventually he spoke, and his voice matched his eyes. “I have some things I want to say to you.”  
She eyed him, waiting.  
Vulpes took a deep breath. He didn’t want to say it but if he didn’t say it now he might not be able to later. He plunged on. “If you want to go, you can leave tomorrow. I will even... escort you to wherever you want to go, if you wish me to. That is the first thing.”  
She gazed dully at him, the illness masking the surprise she felt.  
“The second thing is that your acquaintance Craig Boone did not sell you to me. I took you. That is the only lie I have told you. Everything else has been the truth.”  
“I thought that. About Craig, I mean.”  
“Mm.” He seemed about to say more but paused.  
“Something else?” she prompted.  
Vulpes sighed. “You will find this out soon enough, so I might as well tell you myself. I killed your little blond friend.”  
“Who?” asked Vienna, confused. She didn’t have any particular little blond friends, although she knew some.  
“The fluffy one.”  
“Little, fluffy, blond friend,” said Vienna slowly. “I don’t know who you mean. Can you be more specific?”  
“Arcade Gannon of the Enclave,” muttered Vulpes, half expecting to be hit in the face with the bowl.

This was so shocking that Vienna at first could not react properly. Instead she giggled.  
“Arcade, little and fluffy?”  
Shrug.  
The giggle faded. “And, Arcade, _of the Enclave_?”  
“Yes.”  
“And, Arcade... dead?”  
“Yes.”  
Vienna tried to process the information. She failed to make any conclusion about the Enclave aspect. But she could understand ‘dead’. Tears pricked her eyes. Arcade had been a good friend.  
“Explain,” she said, unable to construct a full sentence.  
“At the Fort, when you attacked... he shot at me, missed, and had to reload, which afforded me the opportunity to kill him.”  
“How?” she asked, though it hardly mattered anymore. “Are you sure he’s dead?”  
“I left a machete in him.”  
Vienna winced, and threw up again in her bowl.  
Vulpes took it and rinsed it, then brought it back and sat deliberately within her reach. She could hit him if it made her feel better.

Vienna made no move. She thought about it. Arcade had been a good person... a trusted friend... and to lose him was terrible. But he had chosen to come with her that day. He had declared war on the Legion, with her, and died fulfilling that worthy mission. It was not an ignoble death. It was more than honourable. 

“They say all’s fair in love and war,” Vienna said slowly. “But I don’t agree with that.”  
Vulpes waited.  
“However...” she trailed off. Then she looked up and said, “So be it. Arcade knew the risks. He chose his fate, as did Caesar and Lucius, as did we all.”  
“It is only by chance that I am alive,” Vulpes agreed.  
“I, too,” said Vienna, nodding.  
“Indeed, you have nearly died three times in the last five days,” said Vulpes, hazarding a small smile. 

Vulpes smiling was an irresistibly beautiful sight and Vienna could not help her heart thawing slightly. He saw it and reached forward to take her in a strong hug, exhaling softly by her ear. She allowed the hug, then pushed him away hurriedly and retched into her bowl again.

“I loved Arcade,” she said, stating a fact.  
“I know,” said Vulpes quietly.

Vienna lay back and looked at the ceiling. Vulpes sat next to her, staring into space, absentmindedly stroking her fingers with his thumb. 

After a time her nausea passed and the headache became faint. When the Rad-Away solution was finished Vulpes disconnected it from her wrist and bandaged the small puncture wound it left.

It was around four in the morning, and the eerie, otherworldly atmosphere that is always present at that time was magnified by the disturbing events, their exhaustion, and the deep silence of the safehouse. 

Vulpes was so physically and mentally fatigued that he ached all over. He wondered if he was still asleep and this was part of a dream; and if so, was it a dream or a nightmare? Perhaps he would wake up at the Fort. He could go have breakfast with Lucius and the other officers. Should he tell them of this dream? Probably not, they may take it as a bad omen. They were superstitious...

“You got anything else you need to fess up to?” Vienna asked, bringing him back into the room.  
“No...” Vulpes replied, gathering his senses. “But there is another thing I want you to know before you go.”  
“Mmm?”  
Suddenly Vulpes didn’t know how to say it. How could he explain the intensity he felt about her? There weren’t words. He remembered an old story Caesar had once told.  
His pale eyes met hers. “I love you as Mars loved Venus,” he said. 

Vienna said nothing for a while, then she spoke carefully. “I think that you are in shock, Vulpes. I think you have received such a severe shock from seeing the Legion destroyed that you have fixated your attention on me without really thinking about it.”  
This came as a surprise to Vulpes. He had expected her to rebuff him, but not to present such a cogent argument. He resisted a strong impulse to immediately disagree, and forced himself to consider the unpleasant notion. Could he be not in his right mind? 

The image of her as a 17-year-old flashed in front of him. The sun shone on her hair. She was aiming a Mauser at a playing card across a corral and she hit it several times in the air before it fluttered to the ground. She turned and smiled widely at the cheering audience. She looked him right in the eye and winked.  
In that instant she had become his idol. He had searched for and eventually obtained his own Mauser, in tribute to that perfect moment. 

“I can see why you might think that, but you are wrong,” he answered, sure of himself now. “You already know that I met you many years ago. I never forgot you, though at that time I admired you in a childish way. When I met you again at Nipton, my interest became... mature.”  
“You mean sexual,” she smiled.  
“That too,” he said softly, and leaned down to kiss her bare chest. His eyes closed as he pressed his lips to her heart.

He felt her fingers stroke his hair and smiled inwardly. She was going to come back to him.

His thoughts returned to the Mauser. What a peculiar twist of fate, that he chose it in honour of her, and years later should end up shooting her with it.  
“I want you to have something,” he said suddenly. He got up and took the Mauser from amongst his things. For a moment he thought about unloading it, then decided to chance it. Taking it to her, he presented it ceremoniously.  
“You may not remember, but you are quite impressive with this gun,” he said as she took it. 

Vienna didn’t know what to say. Did he want her to shoot him? She looked in the chamber and saw that it was loaded. 

She cocked the gun, lifted it and pressed the barrel against Vulpes’ temple, her finger on the trigger. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even change expression, just watched her.  
“I shouldn’t kill you because..?” she whispered.  
Pause. “Only you can answer that.”  
She held it for a while longer, then lowered the gun. “You’ve got balls of steel, I’ll say that,” she said.

Vulpes realised he had been holding his breath. He breathed out silently so she wouldn’t notice. 

She got out of bed and put the gun back on the shelf where Vulpes had gotten it from.  
“Thank you for that, it’s a nice gift,” she said casually, as though she had not just nearly murdered him.

Looking down she noticed she was naked. Her Legion tunic was lying in a sodden lump on the floor near the washbasin, no doubt still with ghoul goo on it. She picked up Vulpes’ Merc shirt from the back of a chair with the idea of borrowing it, but it was damp too.  
She went back to bed naked. Vulpes remained sitting on the edge. They looked at each other.  
“It is a little chilly,” she pointed out.  
“Yes.”  
“And our clothes are wet.”  
“Yes.”  
“I’m very tired, though.”  
He just smiled at that, and went and turned the lamp down low. Then he came back and lay down next to her, wrapping his arms around her and tucking his face into the crook of her neck. She shivered slightly and he tightened his grip around her. He softly kissed her neck. Listening to her breathe, he let himself fall asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

“You really stink, Boone,” said Veronica fondly as she snuggled up to him by their campfire.  
“Don’t like it, go over there,” Boone replied gruffly.  
“Oh I like it. Smells like victory,” chuckled Veronica, taking a mock-sniff. “Specifically, it smells like the smell of someone who may just have put a bullet into the criminally psychopathic brain of a certain ‘Caesar’ in the not-too-distant past.”  
The corners of Boone’s mouth twitched up a little.  
“And made caesar salad out of him!” continued Veronica, poking him.  
Boone broke out in a grin.  
“You’re the Man, Boone!” laughed Veronica. She high-fived him, something she had been training him to do for several days now. He was starting to get it.  
“Who’s the Daddy!” she yelled into the darkness.  
“Jeez, keep it down Vero,” he muttered, but he was smiling.

They had been tripping on the kill ever since it had happened. Boone and Veronica had been the big heroes of the day, killing Caesar and Lucius respectively. They still hadn’t fully come down from the high. 

Now, the Courier’s group was split into three. Boone and Veronica were searching the southern areas of the Mojave. Cass and Raul were searching the north. The Courier was missing, no one had seen her since the attack on the Fort. Assuming she was alive, the worst case scenario was that the Legate Lanius had gotten hold of her and she was now in Flagstaff, the Legion’s home base. The four friends had agreed to all meet back at the Lucky 38 after their searches. If there was no trace of her, they would go together to Flagstaff and take their chances there. 

The second worst case scenario was that she had been abducted by Vulpes Inculta, who had been glimpsed at the Fort that day but whose body had not been found. It appeared he had escaped, something no one was too happy about. Vulpes Inculta was a formidable enemy. It had been no random chance that he was one of Caesar’s top generals. 

Veronica believed Inculta was even capable of re-forming the Legion under his own leadership. She hadn’t said so but she suspected that if he did, the Legion could be even more powerful, and more nightmarish, than it had been under Caesar. Caesar had exhibited several weaknesses. He was old, ill and spent too much time groping slaves. Whereas no one had ever heard of Vulpes Inculta having any weaknesses whatsoever, unless lack of a sense of humour counted. He was a machine.

As far as Veronica could see, Inculta had only ever made two mistakes in his life. The second was not assassinating Caesar and taking control for himself earlier on. The first was supporting the Legion at all. If he had worked for the NCR, the NCR could have been devastatingly successful. Too much so for anyone’s good. In that sense, perhaps it was a good thing for the Mojave that he had stuck to the losing side.

Now the Courier was missing, and they were searching for any sign of her. So far there had been nothing. No one had seen her, or Inculta for that matter. Veronica refused to think too much about what might have occurred. _The Courier is tough as nails, she’ll be ok whatever has happened_ , was all she would allow herself to think.

Boone was the opposite. He could hardly stop thinking about it, and running the most horrific scenarios though his mind. Legate Lanius torturing her. Burning her, raping her, pissing on her. Handing her over to his men when he was finished. Vulpes Inculta torturing her. Carving his name into her flesh. Boone’s imagination was his worst enemy.

They were camping at the Emergency Service Railyard, near Primm Pass. They’d left Novac the day before, and would be in Primm tomorrow. They hadn’t spent long in Novac, Boone had gotten pretty sad so Veronica had hustled them out of there after making the necessary enquiries. 

No one had any information. Manny had offered to come help them look and Veronica had accepted, but then Boone had arbitrarily vetoed the idea. Manny had looked wounded, and Veronica had yelled at Boone once they were far enough out of town to not be heard. 

Veronica was the only person who could yell at Boone and get away with it. Not that it did any good, but he would listen even though he didn’t respond. When anyone else tried it, he would walk away. And sometimes not come back. Veronica had had to go and collect him a few times when Cass or the others had tried to give him a hot ear about something, or talk to him about anything personal.

The night was cooler than usual. In the interests of traveling light they only had one blanket, so they were snuggled up together under it. Veronica appreciated that Boone never hit on her. Boone felt the same way about her. They had an unspoken agreement that whenever they walked into bars they would pretend to be a couple. Veronica would hang on Boone’s arm and look mock-adoringly up at him, and he would tousle her hair affectionately.

It wasn’t all make-believe, they did hold strong affection for each other, but behind the facade it was strictly platonic. Both of them were in love with other women.

“We’ll be in Primm tomorrow, maybe someone there has heard something,” Veronica said optimistically.  
“Doubt it. Nothing happens in that town,” murmured Boone the pessimist.  
“Then we move on to the Mojave Outpost. Lotsa caravan traders passing through there, and Ranger Ghost keeping her sights on the whole area. If anyone’s seen anything, we’ll -” she broke off to yawn widely. “We’ll hear about it.”  
Boone was already asleep. Veronica snuggled closer for warmth and fell asleep too.

***

 _Craig Boone lies on his back under the night sky, a cool breeze curling around his bare skin. He is surrounded by darkness with only the stars for company. He feels as though he is tumbling slowly through space, alone in the universe. A glow appears in the darkness. He tumbles towards it and sees it is the Courier. She too is bare, and her statuesque figure and hip-length hair replicate the image of_ The Birth of Venus _he once saw in a pre-war book. The night air becomes warm and sweetly scented. She drifts closer and he sees she is smiling at him. Her face is kindness itself. She stands above him, smiling down, then kneels over him, takes his face in her hands and kisses his lips. She whispers, “I’ve wanted you for so long.” Boone feels happiness such as he had long forgotten. He returns her kiss, and all the stars above him start to glitter brightly. He sighs deeply as she kisses his neck, then his chest. She takes him inside her and rides him gently, gliding up and down on his length, kissing his lips as she does so. He cannot move, he can only submit to the blissful sensations. She feels like velvet and tastes like honey; he cannot get enough._

_Behind her another figure looms up. This one does not have a kind expression. It is Carla Boone, heavily pregnant, scowling in disapproval. Carla raises a hand and points at him. A lightning bolt flashes from her finger and blinds him. When he can see again, the Courier is gone, and Carla is lying in a crumpled heap. He shouts her name, but he cannot go to her, he is still paralysed. He feels total panic._

“What? What’s wrong? Boone, wake up,” said Veronica groggily.  
“Uh. I’m sorry,” Boone muttered, propping himself up on one elbow and rubbing his face with his other hand. It had been so vivid.  
“Was it The Dream again?”  
“Yeah.” They had discussed The Dream before. He had had it, or something like it, every night since the Courier had disappeared. This time it had been different though.  
“The Courier is not dead and Carla is not your fault. Now go to sleep,” said Veronica shortly. She wasn’t at her best when awoken.  
She put her arms around him and went back to sleep herself. Boone lay awake for a long time, thinking.


	15. Chapter 15

At around midday, Vienna woke up in bed at the safehouse. Sunlight was shining down the stairs from the room above, tiny particles of dust glowing in its path. She stayed still, knowing that as soon as she moved, Vulpes would wake too. She wanted to have some time to herself first. 

She felt warm and comfortable. Vulpes’ arm was around her, his face against her neck. She could smell his skin and hair. He smelt way a man should. Real good.

Asleep, the tenseness had gone from his face and he looked more boyish, almost angelic. Huh. If anyone didn’t deserve a face of innocence it was him, thought Vienna. Then her mind recalled the events of the early hours of the morning. He had risked his life to protect her. But had it been for her, or for himself? That led her to the philosophical question of whether anything anyone did was ever not to some extent for themselves. Her brain went fuzzy. It was too early in the morning for such thoughts. Or the afternoon. Whatever it was.

He had gone a long way towards proving his sincerity last night, though. Vienna pictured how he had seemed to dance when he was cutting down the feral ghouls; it had been a mesmerising sight, frightening and beautiful. He had the balance and grace of a Nijinsky. Only someone with extraordinary skill could have made what she had seen him do look easy, even leisurely, when in fact every move had been lightning fast. How wasted he had been in the Legion, she thought. He could have done incredible things had he taken a different path.

Her eyes lingered on his sensuous lips, his stubbled jawline. She saw the ugly gouge marks in his shoulder. He had gotten them saving her hide. Then he had rescued her from a secondary death, of radiation poisoning. He had taken such tender care of her last night, even after she had thrown his apology back in his face, and tried to run away from him. She smiled to herself. With enemies like this, who needed friends?

The gouge marks were deep and looked painful. She leaned over and very gently kissed them.

The sensation woke Vulpes. He kept his eyes closed and waited, curious what she would do. Anything could happen. The uncertainty was exciting. 

Vienna admired his muscled arms and lithe torso. He had a number of faded scars that didn’t detract from his beauty at all. Her eyes continued down. Mmm. That cock. It was majestic, there was no denying it. Propping herself up on her elbow, she looked closer, and admired the thick veins running along it. Great blood supply. She leaned down and placed a small kiss right on the tip. 

It twitched and Vulpes’ composure was ruined. He blinked and looked at her with a smile in his eyes. Vienna looked up at him, parted her lips slightly, and without taking her eyes from his, let her bottom lip lick up the underside of his cock, from the base to the tip. Vulpes exhaled and his eyes clouded. He was fully erect now, standing before her face like a monolithic statue. She took the head into her mouth and teased it with her tongue. Vulpes still watched her but his eyes were half-closed now and his expression dreamy. She slid her mouth down, taking him in as far as her throat would allow. There she held him and sucked.

His cock pulsed in her mouth and she felt him entwine his fingers in her hair, holding her head in place. Her jaw was being forced wider open by his girth than it was used to, and it ached, but she maintained the pressure, massaging him with her tongue as she sucked. 

Vulpes felt ecstatic. He wanted to come in her mouth right there and then. He tried to resist the impulse. Just then she lifted her hand to his testicles and started to caress them, humming _Mmmm_ as she did so, and that was it. He let go, and semen spurted copiously into her throat.

Vienna swallowed as much as she could, but it was too much and some leaked out the sides of her mouth, ran down her chin and, as she sat up, dripped onto her breasts. She smiled and rubbed it in, teasing her nipples to hard points for him.

Seeing her do that sent Vulpes into a frenzy of lust and his cock got even harder. He sat up, grabbed her and, lifting her in the air, brutally forced her down onto his length, fully impaling her. The sudden intense pressure inside her made her gasp for air. He lay back to let her take the lead, but she couldn’t move, just sat still, panting, letting her insides adjust to the massive intrusion. He filled her beautifully and completely; she could not have taken any more. She felt very bruised, deep inside. Her sex had received a severe battering over the past few days.

His eyes were wide open now and he was staring at her like a starving dog eyes a bone; and willing her to move on him. She took a deep breath, raised herself up on her knees, till only the head of his cock was still inside her, then eased back down onto him. The bruising felt a bit better. Again, and it felt better still. She slowly built a rhythm. 

Their eyes were locked together. Very soon the sensation of internal bruising left her and was replaced by a deep pleasure. He pulled her towards him and raised his head to catch one of her breasts in his mouth, sucking on her nipple. She leaned down to kiss his forehead and he wrapped his arms around her, taking over the motion from beneath. He kissed her with a passion she could only wonder at, almost biting at her.

“Didn’t you have anyone to love you, all these years?” she murmured.  
“I didn’t have you,” he whispered.

He pushed her half over so she was lying on her side, pulled one of her legs up and over his shoulder, and straddling her other thigh, pushed himself into her again. This position allowed him to go very deep inside her and she moaned in pleasure, her internal muscles spasming tightly around him. He thrust powerfully and regularly into her and she let her fingers drift to her clit. That was almost too much and she fought herself for control. 

Vulpes pushed her leg up high and watched himself sliding into her, her swollen cunt stretched exquisitely around him. Her fingers were stroking her engorged clit. He licked his own fingers and pushed one into her ass. The sensation was magnificent for her and she fought harder not to orgasm. He added a second finger, sliding them in and out of her in sync with his thrusts, his cock moving in as his fingers moved out, his fingers moving in as his cock moved out. This started her moaning uncontrollably. His timing was immaculate. She bit down on her hand, trying to control herself. He pushed a third finger in and she broke, her orgasm washing over her so strongly that she went momentarily deaf and could only hear the rushing of blood in her head.

The pressure her orgasm made on his cock made Vulpes come inside her with a gasp. He stopped moving, still inside her, panting hard.

It wasn’t enough, he wanted to possess more of her. He wanted to own every piece of her, and prove it, like a tomcat marking his territory. He drew his still half-hard cock out of her pussy and used the mixed juices flowing from her to better lubricate her asshole. He pushed the two fingers back inside her ass, earning an appreciative moan from her. She wanted more. He rubbed the fingers inside her in a circle, gently stretching her, then reintroduced the third finger, pushing deeply, up to the knuckles. She groaned “ _Ohhhhh_.” He fingerfucked her for a minute, and stroked his cock with his other hand; then angled it and pushed it a little way into her ass. 

“Ohh... yeahh...” she breathed, nodding slightly.  
He pushed further in, admiring the way her flesh stretched to accept him. He pulled out a little, then pushed back in firmly, gliding smoothly all the way in, till his balls were pressed against her cunt. He pulled out and slammed back in hard, making her grunt “ _Ooof_!” 

She was making such sweet sounds, and the heat and pressure around his cock was so good, Vulpes couldn’t show restraint; he began to fuck her mercilessly, making her body judder with each vicious impact.

Vienna submitted to the cruel treatment willingly. Her mind was empty, all she could do was experience the gorgeous feelings, she could not think at all. 

Hammering into her, Vulpes suddenly smacked her ass hard with his hand and she yelped. Liking the sound, he did it again, even more sharply. He grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head back, turning her panting into gasping. She twisted to look back at him. His eyes were burning and his face was pure violence. Abruptly he shut his eyes and she felt him come, pulsing out the hot liquid deep inside of her.

He was still a moment, then pulled out of her slowly and sat back. He was looking at her with an expression she could not read. He lay down on his back next to her, putting his arm around her and pulling her close.  
He stared at the ceiling as though in a trance.

Vienna was stunned for several minutes. Then she gingerly felt her belly. “I think you may have ruptured my spleen.”  
Vulpes looked at her in alarm. “Are you in pain?”  
“Heh, I’m just kidding. I do feel pretty beat up inside though.”  
Vulpes put his hand on her lower abdomen and rubbed it gently.  
“I don’t want to damage anything in here,” he murmured, thinking of his sons.

“You know, you could be a pornstar in New Reno with those skills,” she said presently.  
“A what?”  
“Y’know, a pornstar. Someone who gets filmed having sex, for their job. Like in that magazine you gave me to read,” she grinned.  
Vulpes looked aghast.  
“I did think it was a little odd to give me a porn mag to read, while you were out getting supplies,” she continued, laughing at his expression of mortification.  
Myron’s _Cat’s Paw_. Atticus had left it amongst the issues of _Boxing Times, iLa Fantoma!_ , _Milsurp Review_ and other magazines that were now piled by the bed.  
“I apologise for that, I forgot it was there,” he said formally, which just made her laugh more. 

She lazily stroked one of his nipples with a finger. It went hard. She leaned over and licked it with the tip of her tongue. 

Vulpes wanted to fuck her again. He wanted to talk to her about what would happen today, ask her not to leave, persuade her to give him a chance to prove himself. 

Vulpes kissed her breasts. He kissed her belly. He kissed her thighs. He pushed her legs apart and kissed her sex. He held her vulva open and kissed her clit. He flickered his tongue over it, trying different pressures and strokes until he found one that made her purr and the muscles in her legs begin to tremble. He worked it, making her tremble more, more, and then cry out and go still.

He reached up and kissed her mouth, and she responded hungrily. Her eyes smiled at him. They kissed passionately, entwining their limbs around each other until they were in a tight embrace.   
“Don’t leave me,” whispered Vulpes between kisses.  
Vienna didn’t answer.


	16. Chapter 16

Vulpes got out of bed and flicked the radio on. It was playing _Hallo Mister X_. He went to wash himself. Vienna joined him and he washed her too. He enjoyed this task, it made him feel calm, the way repairing his equipment and maintaining his weapons did.  
When they were clean he set about washing their tunics, and Vienna went back to bed.

Vulpes took the clean tunics outside and draped them on rocks to dry. The day was clear and there was a vast blue sky all around the safehouse. He breathed deeply. The air smelt of ozone and agave flowers. He felt good. Things were looking a lot less bleak than they had last night. Instead of leaving at first light as he had expected her to, the Courier had slept in, and on awakening had made love to him so sweetly that thinking of it now made his blood feel carbonated.

Crows flapped nearby and Vulpes remembered that he had to get rid of Atticus’ body. He went back into the safehouse, dressed himself in his merc grunt outfit and picked up his ripper. Back outside, he located the body and saw that animals had already gnawed on it. He lifted it and carried it down the rocky hill towards the old test site, the scene of the Courier’s near-undoing last night. 

The corpses of the five ghouls were there, splayed out at odd angles, with severed limbs flung randomly around them. He stayed a good distance away from the Glowing One’s cadaver. It still glowed peculiarly, even in the strong daylight. There was a derelict building on the site and Vulpes approached it. He planned to dump Atticus’ body in it, and kill any remaining ghouls lurking around. 

Going inside, there were no ghouls, but there was already a dead body in there. Vulpes surmised from her lack of hair that she had died of radiation sickness, and throwing Atticus’ body down next to her, he ran out and headed back up the hill. He would need a dose of Rad-Away himself if he stayed any longer.

Back at the safehouse, he went downstairs and cleaned himself up. Vienna was still in bed, reading pre-war books.  
“Hungry?” he asked.  
“A little,” she lied. She was ravenous.  
“If you come outside I will make you breakfast,” said Vulpes. “It’s a beautiful day.”

They went upstairs, and carried the couch from the living room out the door so they could sit on it outside. They placed it facing the afternoon sun and the fireplace. Vienna lay down on it, enjoying the warm sun on her bare skin, and watched Vulpes deftly make a fire and prepare their meal. For an infamously terrible man, in person he was most agreeable company, she thought. She felt totally relaxed. The radio started to play _Cold, Cold Heart_.

_I tried so hard, my dear, to show_  
 _that you’re my every dream_  
 _Yet you’re afraid each thing I do_  
 _is just some evil scheme_

_A memory from your lonesome past_  
 _keeps us so far apart_  
 _Why can’t I free your doubtful mind_  
 _and melt your cold, cold heart?_

“Yes, why can’t I,” said Vulpes, turning the omelette he was making. He glanced at Vienna with his eyebrows raised.  
She boggled at him. “Did you just make a joke?” She looked around in mock-confusion. “ _Vulpes Inculta_ thinks my heart is colder than his? Am I on drugs? Where am I?”  
“My heart is not cold,” said Vulpes mildly.  
“Wha... not cold? You’re Ice-Cold Nuka Cola cold. You’re North Pole - no, you’re _deep space_ cold.”  
“Why do you say that?” asked Vulpes innocently.  
Vienna was momentarily lost for words. Either he was genuine or he was an all-time great actor. She suspected the latter.  
“You do remember what you did in Nipton, don’t you?”  
“Yes.”  
“And Camp Searchlight?”  
“Yes.”  
“And Dry Wells?”  
“Yes. Your point being?” asked Vulpes, handing her a plateful of omelette.  
“You committed murder on a grand scale, Vulpes,” said Vienna quietly, no longer smiling.

Vulpes sat next to her and ate a forkful of omelette, gazing pensively down the valley at the ruins of Nipton. “Those were not random murders, Courier. Those were important lessons I was teaching, and the people who died were not innocent.”  
“In your eyes.”  
“Yes. In my eyes. Who else’s eyes should I look through?”  
“You think you had a right to judge them?”  
He nodded slowly. “Yes. I judged them, as I have been judged myself.”  
“What do you mean? Are you saying that because your tribe was wiped out, all except for you, that means you have the right to do the same in turn?” Vienna asked. “That doesn’t make sense. Just because you suffered, it doesn’t entitle you to pass it on.”  
“It is not a matter of suffering. That was not my aim. It is - or was - a matter of unity, and of morality. The people of Dry Wells chose to stand against the Legion. That could not be tolerated, as they served as inspiration to other tribes who would resist.” Vulpes calmly ate more omelette.  
Swallowing, he continued. “Camp Searchlight was an NCR military base which was in our way. No one who supports the NCR can call themselves innocent. And Nipton was, as you know, a degenerate collection of whores and gamblers. They did not value their own lives, and as such did not deserve to keep them. Furthermore, they sold out their own friends and families. That is lower than an animal would behave. Even a three-legged bitch will protect her litter with her life.”  
“So you were judge, jury and executioner.”  
“That is a cliché, but, yes. And I stand by my actions.”  
“You have no regrets.”  
“No.” He turned to face her. She looked in his eyes and saw honesty.  
“Hmm,” Vienna nodded slowly. There seemed nothing else to say. She ate her omelette. It was good.

After they ate Vienna stretched out again on the sofa, thinking about Vulpes’ skewed worldview, and wondering if there was any point in resuming the argument. 

Vulpes resumed it for her. “You have a prodigious bodycount yourself, so I’m informed.” He lifted Vienna’s feet onto his lap and began to rub them. “Just this morning I disposed of a body on your behalf. I don’t doubt that you had your reasons for each of those deaths.” He raised one eyebrow enquiringly.  
“I did,” she agreed. “But I did not wipe out entire settlements.”  
“You wiped out Cottonwood Cove, and Fortification Hill,” said Vulpes with no rancour.  
“Yes, that’s true.”  
“You killed Dead Sea and all sixteen of his men in Nelson.”  
“They had it coming.” Vienna regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. That argument could be used for anything.  
“You exterminated all of the fiends in Vault 3 and the surrounding areas.”  
“Yeah.”  
“You killed Benny, Mr House, the Van Graff siblings and their employees; I even hear you were responsible for Black Mountain Radio going dead.”  
“Thank you, I get your point.”  
“It bothers you, that I mention these things?” asked Vulpes with interest. “So you prefer them to remain hidden. Perhaps your objection to my killings is that I deliberately publicised them, rather than that I committed them?”

Vienna stared at the sky, wondering if he could be right.

Vulpes lifted each of her feet in turn and kissed each one of her toes. Vienna sighed. It was hard not to like a man who gave a good foot massage.

Right now, she had to admit she felt wonderful. Her skin was clean and felt silky, her belly was full of something delicious, the sun was warm on her face and the foot-rub felt marvellous. There was nowhere she had to be, she had just had the best sex she could remember, and there was a lot more of where it came from... if she wanted it. 

That led her to the question, what did she want to happen next? Was she going to leave here today, and if so, would she take him with her? If her theory about him was correct, he would follow her to the ends of the earth. There was something to be said for that kind of loyalty.

She pictured herself strolling into the Lucky 38 and introducing him as her new boyfriend. Boone would have apoplexy. A firefight would probably break out. It would be her and Vulpes versus Boone and Veronica. Maybe Veronica could be persuaded to join the Vs. Knowing Cass and Raul they would probably stay sitting down and slugging whiskey throughout the entire brawl, providing a running commentary. _“Oh, nice shot, Boss. Good hiding place too. Hey Boone she’s behind the sofa. Oh, sorry Boss! You want a band-aid?”_  


What would he do if she didn’t take him? That was a real concern. He would be a loose cannon, and very capable of re-establishing the Legion, though he didn’t seem to have considered it yet. Maybe she should she assassinate him before he had the chance.

No, he could not be left to his own devices; he was too dangerous. Her choices whittled down to a) keep him with her, or b) kill him. 

Another problem was Boone. She had liked him since they met, liked him a _lot_ , but he had never shown any sign of liking her back. Not the way she wanted, anyway. She had even tried to get him tipsy and jump his bones one night. No dice. The man could not be loosened up. But she still had feelings for him.

Boone and Vulpes could not both live at the Lucky 38 together so she had to choose. Great sex with a handsome but astoundingly evil guy... or no sex with a very sweet, totally fucked up guy, who admittedly had a sizeable bodycount of his own, but at least felt guilty about it. Some of it.  
Hmm.

The sofa was comfortable, and Vulpes’ fingers were magical. Lost in contemplation, her thinking became fuzzy, and she fell asleep. 

***

In Primm, Veronica and Boone asked around and heard that no one had seen the Courier, but that a well spoken, good looking young man with cold eyes had come into town looking for another man, one known in Primm as a friendly drifter named Jim. Jim had headed towards the Mojave Outpost and the cold-eyed man had gone that way too, but not before sneakily lifting almost all of the Store’s food supplies, including some expensive powdered deathclaw egg that old Mrs Nash was most annoyed about losing. 

In the Mojave Outpost, they heard that a man with chocolate brown hair and grey eyes who said he was a farmer but looked more like a mercenary had silently killed Lacey the bartender and stolen a case full of drugs. Ranger Ghost said she had last been able to see him entering Crescent Canyon, maybe heading towards the old nuclear test site.

By then it was getting late, and they were tired, so they decided to stay the night in the Mojave Outpost and go investigate the test site the next day. It was probably a false alarm, but if by chance it did turn out to be Vulpes, they would need to be on their toes.


	17. Chapter 17

Vulpes watched the sleeping Courier’s naked chest rise and fall. He gently lifted her feet off his lap and lay down beside her, with his head on her breast, listening to her heart beat. 

He thought about their conversation. Her view that he had not had the right to judge the people he had killed... No, she had the wrong way of looking at it. It didn’t matter who judged them. The important aspect was who _they_ were, not who he was. They were debased, weak, corrupt. They had done wrong, and if they had not faced the Legion’s justice, they would still be doing wrong.

Her question should have been, were the Legion’s ideals right, and if so, was their form of justice appropriate to those ideals. Simple enough to answer. He would explain it to her when next she brought the subject up. No doubt she would.

If she came to understand his point of view... they could be so powerful together. He could reanimate the Legion, dispose of Lanius and make her his Legate. 

She would come home every evening from the battlefield, and he would clean the blood and dirt from her, then take her to bed and satisfy her in every way, as he had already proved he could.

Vulpes daydreamed about it as he let his hand stroke her body, admiring her soft skin, taking in her curves. He pinched her nipple to firmness in front of his eyes, and it pointed proudly to the sky. His hand moved down and found its way between her legs, pulling them gently apart. He caressed her inner thighs, then her sex, watching her eyes. She slept peacefully. Carefully, he climbed on top of her.

Vienna dreamt that she was at the Fort, armed with Maria in one hand, Lucky in the other. Boone was at her side. She kissed each gun once then strode into Caesar’s tent and started executing his praetorian guards. Caesar leapt up and Boone dropped him with a bullet to the brain. Then Boone dropped his gun and kissed her. He took her in a strong embrace and lifted her onto him, letting her slide down onto his cock, fucking her where he stood.  
“Oh Craig,” she tried to say, but her voice was obscured by his tongue in her mouth.

“You are mine,” he said, but his voice was wrong. Her dream abruptly changed. She was at Cottonwood Cove, bound and gagged. There was a crowd of legionaries around her and she was being auctioned off as a slave. Vulpes Inculta was bidding on her. He won her, and approached with a demonic grin. He took her right where she stood, in front of the crowd, fucking her hard against the post she was tied to. She saw a glint of light in the hills. Craig was there, with his rifle. He was going to –  
“Don’t!” she screamed.

Vulpes froze.  
“Craig!” she cried.

Vulpes’ expression metamorphosed from one of pleasure and tenderness to one of pain and rage.  
“Craig?” he asked. Vienna’s eyes opened and she looked at him in confusion before she remembered her situation.  
“I thought...” she began and stopped.  
“You thought I was Craig Boone?” asked Vulpes and his voice was deadly.  
“ _Whore!_ ” he suddenly screamed in her face, his fingers pressing around her neck. Her eyes widened in shock.  
“Have you been fucking him?” he demanded, his eyes burning in fury.  
“No!” she said, trying desperately to calm him down.  
“Don’t lie to me!” he shouted, fury cracking his voice.

All of a sudden it was Vienna who was furious. How dare he? He had never owned her. Until very recently he had hardly even known her. A surge of adrenaline flushed through her veins and she shoved him off her and onto the ground, jumping up and launching a kick at his head. It connected and he was knocked sideways, grunting in pain.  
“How fucking DARE YOU!” she bellowed at him. “You call ME a whore? You kidnapped me, you stupid, fucking, ASSHOLE! And you know NOTHING about me!” This wasn’t completely true but she wasn’t feeling completely rational.

He scrambled to his feet and came at her, and she let him get close then headbutted him, hitting his jaw and knocking him out.  
“HA HA!” she yelled as he staggered backwards and collapsed.  
With him unconscious, her rage left her as suddenly as it had arrived. She sat down on the sofa feeling almost serene. It was a character trait of hers that once she had made her attack, she could not stay angry with anyone for long. She looked at Vulpes’ prone body and felt perfectly calm.

He came to half a minute later, and tried to get to his feet, but he was punchdrunk. She helped him up, and propped him on the sofa next to her.  
“You are not the only one who is good at unarmed combat,” she said mildly.  
“I know,” said Vulpes, feeling his jaw gingerly. “I did have to drag you here, if you remember.”  
“Mm. Listen. I don’t want you ever calling me ‘whore’ again,” she said, looking at him seriously. “A whore is someone who does sex for money or some other advantage. That is not me.”  
“What was your relationship with Craig Boone?” asked Vulpes.  
“He is my friend.”  
“You dreamed of sex with him.”  
“So? Haven’t you ever had a sex dream about someone you’re not involved with?” she shrugged.  
Vulpes remembered an embarrassing dream about Caesar.  
“No,” he lied.  
“I love Craig, but I’m not involved with him,” Vienna said honestly.  
Vulpes’ heart felt brittle. “You love him?” he asked softly.  
“As a friend. As you loved Lucius.”  
That made Vulpes feel a lot better.

She reached out and stroked his cheek. “And do _not_ try to strangle me again,” she said.  
“I’m sorry about that.”  
“I can’t be involved with a guy who tries to throttle me every time he gets mad.”  
“I don’t-” He paused. “Are we involved?”  
She shrugged. “You tell me.”  
Vulpes’ expression was like a bright sun coming out from behind stormclouds. Vienna melted, and leaned over to kiss him.  
Vulpes accepted the kiss and the pain in his jaw was forgotten as a sense of huge relief flooded through him. Taking her in his arms, he held her tightly to his chest.

“Maybe we better put some cold water on that jaw. Or even a stimpack,” she said, examining it closely. They went downstairs together, where he lay down on the bed and she tended to his injuries. It was a novelty for Vulpes to have anyone else looking after him. It felt unfamiliar but pleasing. 

Once he was fixed up she lay next to him and picked up one of the magazines. Vulpes dozed for a while, artificially relaxed by the effect of the stimpack, and Vienna read.  
An hour or so later, he woke up feeling fine. He got up and drank some water.

“There’s an interesting article about energy weapons here,” she said. She waved the _Cat’s Paw_.  
“I’ve seen it,” said Vulpes drily.  
“I’ll bet you have,” she said, grinning evilly up at him.  
Going over, he sat next to her, and gently took the magazine off her. “You should not look at such things.”  
“Ruin my fun then.”  
“If it’s fun you desire, perhaps you would allow me to provide that.”  
“You...fun... what an extraordinary idea,” teased Vienna.  
“I think you found me fun this morning,” Vulpes murmured, leaning down to nibble on her earlobe.  
Vienna smiled, then laughed as his little bites started to tickle. She pushed him away, not really meaning it, and he rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. 

She smiled wickedly. “You leave yourself vulnerable to me,” she said, drawing one fingernail down his chest.  
He stared into her eyes and opened his arms out to show surrender.

“I wanted to ask you something,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while. The last time I chatted to Caesar he gave me some incoherent spiel about something he called Hegelian Dialecticism. He seemed to think it was important. Fundamental, even. Can you explain it?”  
“Sure. I can demonstrate it to you.” Vulpes sat up, and flipped her onto her back. “The idea is that in everything there is a _thesis_ , an idea. Let’s say, me.” He climbed on top of her. “For every thesis there must be an _antithesis_ , its opposite. Let’s say, you.” He kissed her lips and spread her legs apart with his knees.  
“I think I see where this is going,” she giggled.  
“Put together, they harmonise to create a new idea, a _synthesis_ ,” said Vulpes, as he entered her.  
“When you put it like that...” she said.  
“You see the beauty of it?”  
“Yes I do.”


	18. Chapter 18

Vulpes had the kind of compelling charisma that made whomever he focused on feel as though they were in the warm glare of the sun. After the target experienced it, everything else felt like deep shade. 

Vienna knew she should kill him and leave, but she couldn’t make herself do it. She was growing addicted to him, to living in the glow of his attention. 

Vulpes was playing all his cards right, giving her good conversation, good sex, and the sweetest affection; everything she had wanted so badly from Boone, and never gotten even so much as a whiff of.

For his part, Vulpes was pulling out an epic effort to give her every pleasure he could think of, in order to keep her with him. He rubbed her back, he combed her hair, he made her little tasty snacks. He answered her questions and discussed openly every topic she raised. 

He even allowed her to try on his dog head uniform, after she asked politely enough. She looked so alluring in it he had to take it straight off her again and ravish her. Afterwards, they lay in bed together, caressing each other’s bodies while they talked. 

Vienna asked what the motivation was behind Caesar’s idea of replicating ancient Rome. 

Vulpes explained it as best he could. That he knew it was a crude facsimile, but it served various useful purposes; to give the Legion a distinctive identity in opposition to the NCR, for example, and to provide a wide range of precepts to make the organisation of a large empire easier. It was not random luck, he said, that the Roman Empire had been so large and successful, nor that it had been so influential and admired for centuries, even millennia to come. 

It also served as a convenient historical precedent to justify unpopular policies, like slavery. Slavery was a necessary evil, he averred, to get large scale projects done that otherwise could not be achieved.

Vienna asked how he could accept slavery, when he had been a slave himself. Vulpes explained that that was exactly why he could accept it. He had been a slave, and had risen above it.

“So you were free to leave if you wanted to?” she asked.  
“Not exactly. If I had left without permission there would have been a death warrant for me, had I been caught,” Vulpes admitted.  
“So you were still a slave. Until I freed you,” she said, smiling sweetly.  
“Ha. I would not have been caught.”  
“But you were still a slave. You were bound to serve Caesar, until you died.”  
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”  
“Didn’t you ever wonder if there were other things in life that you should be doing, or that might give you more satisfaction?”  
“No.” Vulpes sighed. “I gave my life to the Legion. I rose to a high rank because I was extremely proficient at what I did, and I derived my satisfaction from that fact. Moreover, I truly believed in its ideals.” He looked directly at her, challenging her. “I still do.”

She said nothing and he pulled her close and placed a kiss on her forehead. Running his finger along the curve of her eyebrow and down her cheek, he said, “I do not object to having this conversation with you, my beautiful Courier. But would you permit me to continue it outside? I have something I wish to do.”

His intention was to prepare an early dinner. It was only late afternoon, but he wanted to distract her from thinking about leaving until after night fell. 

Outside, the sky was sunny and blue, but there was a faint tinge of pink in the west. The air was still and warm.

Vienna followed him out. She found their Legion tunics lying dry on a rock, and put hers on.  
His challenge had annoyed her. “Were you planning to die an old man in the Legion, still doing the same shit?” she asked bluntly.  
“No,” said Vulpes, turning away to build the fire. “And try to show some respect,” he said gruffly.  
She waited. He didn’t elaborate.

“So, what. Were you planning to get out?”  
“I intended to retire, once we achieved our primary aims. I thought it would take another three or four years.”  
“Would Caesar have let you retire?”  
“I think so,” said Vulpes slowly. “I don’t know.”  
He hooked a large billypot over the fire to boil some water. Chopping things on a board, he began prepare a rich Brahmin stew.

“If you were just biding your time till you got out, why’d you have to go so all-out on it? Couldn’t you have made a half-assed effort, just as much as you had to and no more? Instead of being so... mercilessly efficient?”  
“Because, little Courier, I do not do anything in a ‘half-assed’ way. That is not my style, as I think you know.”  
“And so you would decimate the populations you were assigned to subdue.”  
“ _Decimate_ means to kill one in every ten. We used that as a punishment for disloyalty in the Legion, actually. But for degenerates and especially NCR troops, I preferred to kill ten in every ten.” Vulpes spoke in such a mild tone of voice he could have been discussing paperclips.

“Would you kill Craig Boone, if you met him now?” asked Vienna softly.  
Vulpes didn’t answer. He had been considering the same question off and on for some days.  
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Vienna muttered.  
Vulpes came to a decision. “No. Not if you asked me not to, and he didn’t provoke me.”  
“What would count as provoking?”  
“Aiming at me, touching me,” Vulpes shrugged. “Or touching you,” he added, glancing pointedly at her breasts. “Or trying to get you away from me. Any kind of... interference.”  
“You know that he almost certainly will try to do that. He can’t see straight around Legion.”  
“Then he takes the consequences.”  
“Then you would take consequences from me,” Vienna said in a meaningful tone.  
“So be it.”

Vienna leaned back on the sofa, and studied Vulpes’ face. It was impossible to play chicken with him, she thought. He would hit you head-on, at any cost to himself, just to make his point. This was a rare quality and she had a deep respect for it. He was an extreme risk-taker, like herself. Calculated risks, always, but pushing the envelope of possibility. It was an essential ingredient to both of their personalities, and their respective military successes. 

That’s why he had given her the loaded gun, she realised. He was gambling that she would take it as a sign that he trusted her, and that she should trust him, and he was willing to gamble his life to make her understand that.

She looked at him with new eyes.  
“I’m sorry for my comment, earlier,” she said, sincere.  
He looked up in surprise. “The “old man, same shit” comment?” he asked, smiling faintly.  
“Yeah.”  
Vulpes stopped what he was doing and went over to her. He pulled her to her feet and kissed her roughly, then lifted her up and carried her towards the safehouse. She wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him to hold on. Instead of going in, he stopped at the wall next to the door, pushed her back against it, and with no preamble took her against the wall. 

Vienna gasped as he forced himself into her. His muscles felt like steel coated in silk, and his body radiated a burning heat. He fucked her hard against the concrete and made no attempt to pleasure her. Despite this she felt an orgasm swell deep between her hips. It was almost at the surface when he growled and his movements became jerky, then stopped. He tried to put her down but she gripped onto him with her full strength, begging in a hoarse whisper.  
“Noooo! Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”  
Vulpes looked at her, breathing hard. His cock was still inside her, and still hard. He started moving again, slower this time, staring into her eyes.  
“You like this?” he whispered.

Vienna didn’t respond, she was concentrating on trying to get back to where she had been. “Do what... you were doing,” she panted, closing her eyes.  
Vulpes moved cruelly slowly for a while, tantalizing her, then took her mouth in a forceful kiss and resumed his intense thrusts, not faltering until her legs shook and he felt her clench him inside her like a vice.  
Vienna could not stop herself from moaning aloud. She clung to him, not wanting to be put down, not trusting her legs to support her. He carried her back to the sofa and laid her gently down on it.

***

The evening passed pleasurably and Vienna never did leave. The stew was wonderful, and afterwards she suggested they taste a hipflask of Scotch that was in the drugs cache. Vulpes agreed willingly. He was enjoying his new rules-free life.

They curled up together on the sofa, sipping whiskey, and watching the sunset, which became more and more magnificent till it reached almost biblical beauty.

On the radio, Mr New Vegas thoughtfully played _Where Have You Been All My Life?_

_Like a shooting star_  
 _You appeared before me_  
 _Where have you been all my life?_

_All at once I've found_  
 _Someone to adore me_  
 _Where have you been all my life?_

Vienna thought about the Mojave, and New Vegas, and what she should be doing. Should she get herself to Vegas, and take control of the region? Or should she slip quietly into the sunset and let the Mojave’s fate take its course, whatever that would be.

_Until the moment we met I had no one to cling to_  
 _To be just every thing to_  
 _To be my own true love_

“Vulpes,” she murmured. The whisky was blurring her thinking and her voice.  
“Yes?”  
“Are you interested... in...” She struggled to formulate her question in a way that would not sound as though she were offering him some measure of control.

He gave her a querying look. 

She tried again. “I’d like your opinion as to whether or not I ought to take over New Vegas,” she began.  
He gazed at her expressionlessly.  
“...or I oughta just say ‘fuck it’,” she finished lamely, shrugging.  
“That would be ‘half-assed’,” he said, smiling enigmatically.  
“Hm. Ok. We go there tomorrow then,” she decided.  
Saying nothing, Vulpes lifted her onto his lap and kissed her deeply.

_If this is a dream_  
 _Let me keep on dreaming_  
 _Where have you been all my life?_

Vienna didn’t say it, but she had already decided to make him her special advisor, a role that, perhaps ironically, Arcade had most recently held.

Vulpes didn’t say it, but he knew he had her.

***

Wrapped together in a close embrace, they slept; the stars twinkling above them. In the early hours of the morning the air turned cool. Vulpes awoke and listened to the night sounds of the desert. 

He thought about the future. They would travel to New Vegas together, and there, install themselves in the Lucky 38 and assume control of the city. From that vantage point they could increasingly control the entire region. They would need to raise a mercenary militia to guard Hoover Dam and Helios One. Organising that was well within Vulpes’ capabilities.

Craig Boone would doubtless try to kill him. He would have to be dealt with, in a way that did not raise the Courier’s ire. Perhaps an accident. That would have a double benefit, not only would the pest be out of the way but Vulpes could be the one to provide comfort to the Courier in her grief, with the emotional benefits that would bring. He smiled, picturing how he would hold her, kiss away her tears, murmur comforting words into her ear.

He could advise her to rest, and assist her by taking over responsibility for the day-to-day running of the region. Hopefully he could keep her in an incessant series of pregnancies, for up to a decade maybe, while he took charge of administration. 

If he became powerful enough, and he intended to, he could go up against Lanius and take over his territories.  
Then, by his mid-30s, he would not only still possess the woman he loved, but also own the Mojave, and parts of Arizona, Colorado and Utah, and have several fine sons to educate with everything he had learned. 

After that, his next target could be the cesspit called New Reno...

He felt the Courier shiver. Carefully getting up, he picked her up and carried her into the safehouse and down the stairs, where he laid her down in bed. He went back up to lock and bar the door, then got into bed beside her. Lying half on top of her to keep her warm, he fell asleep.

Vienna had awoken when he picked her up, but pretended to be asleep. Being carried into the house in his strong arms, she felt like a child being carried by her father. It was a comforting feeling. In bed downstairs, she wondered where he was going, but then he came back down and lay with her, tucking his hands under her. A hot heat came off him as it always did. He went to sleep and she heard his breathing slow. 

His closeness was intoxicating and she suddenly felt a rush of feeling for him. “I love you,” she breathed very softly, not expecting a response.  
She felt Vulpes’ eyelashes brush against her neck as he opened his eyes. 

Vulpes was thrilled. His plan, almost abandoned 24 hours previously, was now working even better than he would have dared to anticipate. He kissed her neck lovingly.  
“I adore you, Kate,” he whispered, and he meant it. He kissed her again slowly. “I always have, and I always will.”

She turned on her side, facing him, and snuggled down into his chest. He put his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. 

They slept peacefully, two lovers in the calm eye of a storm.


	19. Chapter 19

The next morning, Vulpes got up and had breakfast ready for her before she woke up. He sat on the edge of the bed, gently stroking her face to wake her. She didn’t awaken, so he turned it up a notch, kissing her breast and tickling her nipple with his tongue. Still she slept on. She was an astonishingly heavy sleeper. He parted her legs and began licking her. She moaned in her sleep. He inserted the tips of two fingers to her sex and rubbed them around in a semicircular motion, then pushed them in deeply, sucking now on her clit. Her hands found his hair and clutched at it. Her pussy was hot and getting very moist, and he added another finger. She moaned again, the sound making his heart race.

He got up on the bed below her and pushed his cock into her, exhaling in bliss as he felt her silky smooth insides stretch to take him in. She was awake now, and looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes. He didn’t speak, just gazed at her as he slowly fucked her. His pace was too slow for her to reach orgasm and she moved her fingers down to help, but he pushed them away and wouldn’t let her touch herself. 

Vienna wondered what he was up to. He maintained the relentlessly slow pace till his eyes narrowed and he gasped, coming hard and pulling out as he did so, so that his hot come soaked her labia, and made her even more slippery. He paused, taking a few deep breaths, then knelt down between her legs and began to finger her again. He pushed four fingers in, stretching her lengthwise, then turned his hand 45 degrees so he stretched her width as well. He pushed in firmly till half his palm was swallowed, his thumb still on the outside. That made her moan and try to stretch her legs further apart. He pulled his hand out and tucked his thumb in amongst his fingers, then pushed in again. 

Vienna could hardly believe what he was doing. It was outlandish... yet it felt incredibly good. She stretched her legs as far apart as they would go and then a little more. Vulpes took this as his signal to go ahead. He pushed firmly and his whole hand slid in with a popping sensation. Once it was inside it was easy to push it in several inches further. 

“You are a very stretchy woman,” he said appreciatively.  
“I’m just finding that out myself,” Vienna replied breathlessly, still slightly amazed that he had managed it.  
“It’s a very good quality,” he said, looking at the taut lips encircling his wrist, and starting to fistfuck her.  
“Unh,” was all she could reply. The sensation was too intense to speak.  
He fucked her slowly at first, then harder. She closed her eyes and gave in to the stunning illicit pleasure he was inducing in her. 

Vulpes watched her, taking pleasure in her pleasure. He stroked his cock with his free hand, thinking about fucking her in the ass with it. He wanted to prove again and again how completely he owned her. Then he changed his mind. He had a better idea. 

Vienna was in an almost euphoric state. He was doing something so forbidden, and the sensations were so delicious. Despite this, she was under no illusions. She knew exactly what he meant to convey - that he owned her and he could make her like it. Then she felt his tongue on her exposed clit, and started to see stars. Moments later an orgasm like none she had felt before slowly crashed through her nervous system, leaving her temporarily deaf, dumb and blind.

When she came to her senses a minute or two later, Vulpes was astride her, and his cock was pointed directly at her face like a nuclear warhead. He was stroking it and she could see from his face that he was nearly there.

“Open your mouth,” he said gruffly, and she readily obeyed. His hot come flowed over her face, filling her mouth and blurring her vision.

He admired the view for a moment, then got off her and went to wash himself. She got out of bed, which was all he had originally wanted, and joined him at the water supply. He washed her face and body, dried her with his merc shirt and then took her hand and led her upstairs. Their breakfast was still waiting for them outside. Vulpes reheated it over the fire.

Vulpes didn’t speak, and Vienna didn’t know what to say. He handed her a plate of barbecued meat, that he had marinated in mutfruit juice and whiskey the night before, and she took a mouthful. It was damn tasty. 

“You are a real carnivore, Vulpes,” she said with her mouth full.  
“Do you like it?”  
“Hell yes. You’re a great cook.”  
He smiled.  
“So, um, did you used to do that to slaves?” she asked, feeling very awkward, but wanting to know.  
“No.”  
“Am I special then?” she grinned sheepishly.  
“Yes. Didn’t you enjoy it? You seemed to.”  
“I did, I just feel weird about it,” she admitted.  
“Why? It is part of the congress between us. No one else will ever know, if that’s what troubles you.” He moved to sit next to her, and affectionately pulled her to him. “I want to touch you, my beautiful Courier, inside and out,” he said softly.  
“Uhm,” she said, blushing, and took a big mouthful of meat so she didn’t have to speak.

Vulpes wouldn’t let her off the hook. He leaned closer, turning his head so he could see her eyes. “I want to do everything to you,” he whispered.  
“Pretty sure you’ve already done everything,” she replied through another mouthful.  
“If I do something you don’t like, you should say so,” he said, still staring intently at her. “Or if there is something you would like me to do,” he added, giving her a mischievous grin.

Vienna couldn’t help but smile. Vulpes the adventurous and considerate lover. He was full of surprises; and she told him so.  
He shrugged. “I want to please you,” he said.  
“You do please me,” she promised.

After breakfast they stretched out in the sun. It was a long, hot road to New Vegas and they decided it would be more comfortable, and safer, to travel at night. Vulpes, in particular, was keen on not being seen by anyone who might recognise him. He had an idea that there might be _Wanted_ posters out by now.

They dozed in the sun for a while, Vulpes sprawled on the sofa with his legs stretched out in front of him and his feet crossed, Vienna lying with her head in his lap. Vulpes let his head fall back and watched small wisps of cloud drift by overhead.

Each was lost in their own thoughts.

“Since you know my name, I think you should tell me yours,” she said, taking him by surprise.  
“You know my name,” dodged Vulpes. He knew perfectly well what she meant but wanted to give himself time to think about whether or not to divulge a secret he had kept for so long.  
“Your true name. The name your parents gave you.”  
Vulpes stared at the sky. No one knew his true name. He had tried very hard to forget it himself. 

She waited, intuitively feeling he would answer, and after a while he rewarded her patience.  
“My name was Seth Dove.”  
The name sounded strange on his tongue. He felt very odd, revealing something so deeply personal. 

Vienna snorted. She looked up at him and made a lopsided grin. Vulpes fixed cold grey eyes on her. “That amuses you because..?”  
“Heh, sorry. It’s not funny in itself. But in the Old World a dove was a symbol of peace, and you couldn’t be anything less like that. You stand for bloodshed and perpetual war.”  
“Perhaps in the Old World I would have been different,” he said icily.

Vulpes’ eyes were furious. He stood up, and stalked away.  
Vienna let him go, thinking about what might have made him so incensed. He was so complex. She wondered if she would ever come to fully understand him. Probably not.

When he didn’t come back after half an hour or so she went looking for him, and found him sitting just beyond the crest of the hill to the east of the safehouse, looking into the haze that shimmered in front of the horizon.  
She sat next to him without saying anything. He remained still. She looked at him. He didn’t look back. She put her hand on his shoulder. No reaction. She took the end of her braid and tickled his neck with it, smiling hopefully. Nothing.  
Hmm. 

“I’ll be over there,” she said, nodding her head back towards the safehouse. She placed a little kiss on his shoulder and walked very slowly back, hoping he would follow her. No dice. She went downstairs, picked up a _¡La Fantoma!_ and went back up to the sofa to read it. After a while he did show up, and sat next to her.

Vienna said, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to mock you.”  
Vulpes’ eyes swiveled to look at her expressionlessly. He didn’t say anything so she asked tentatively, “Are you angry because you regret giving your name?”  
He still didn’t reply but his eyes changed focus. She rested her hand on his knee, looking up at him sideways.  
“It’s a beautiful name, Seth Dove,” she said softly, and she meant it. “I think, you should call me Kate and I should call you Seth,” she decided.  
“We aren’t those people anymore,” he said in a very low voice.  
“Yes we are. Our parents gave us those names and in that respect we will always be those people. We are more those people than we are Vienna and Vulpes. They were just assumed names to suit certain phases of our lives.”

Vulpes contemplated that. It made some sense.  
He brought Vienna’s hand to his lips and kissed it reverently. “Kate,” he breathed.  
“Seth,” she smiled.  
“Hmm. It sounds tolerable when you say it,” he said.

“Dashing Mr Seth Dove, Esquire, of Utah,” she teased.  
Vulpes smiled. “The lovely Mrs Kate Dove,” he teased back, kissing her ring finger.  
Vienna blushed rose red.


	20. Chapter 20

Veronica led the way across the dustbowl in Crescent Canyon, followed by Boone behind her and some way off to the side. Safer, to avoid both being blasted by a single frag mine. There was a lot of dust swirling in the air and the visibility was poor. Their progress was slow.  
The canyon eventually turned into steep rocky terrain to the south. They tried a number of ravines but couldn’t find anywhere to cross southwards, and had to follow the jagged cliff face east till it evened out enough for them to climb up. Going over the top and down the other side, passing just on the other side of the crest of the hill from the safehouse, they saw the old nuclear test site and headed for it. They had passed within 100 yards of the safehouse but not been able to see it tucked into the hillside facing away from them.

The test site was interesting. There were five dead ghouls scattered around, three with limbs dismembered, the other two shot, with a pistol it looked like. One of them was a very large Glowing One.   
“One person couldn’t have done this,” guessed Veronica.  
“At least two,” agreed Boone.

They spent an hour scouting the rest of the site but there was nothing else of interest, so they approached the derelict building. Veronica’s Geiger counter, which had been ticking ominously since they entered the area, starting ticking furiously. She popped a Rad-X and tossed one to Boone.

Entering the building, she immediately saw two corpses, one a balding woman, very decomposed, and one a man, quite fresh. The man had a large crack in his skull and a lot of dried blood on his head and clothes.   
Holding her nose closed with one hand, she quickly rifled the pockets of the man but there was nothing to find.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, heading out the door. Boone followed, and they moved to a sufficient distance that the Geiger counter went quiet.

“I’d say the woman died a long time ago of radiation sickness, but the guy was new.”   
“Yup,” agreed Boone.  
“And he was murdered.”  
“Yup.”  
“So we have five dead ghouls, one dead man... but no sign of Inculta.”  
“Yup.”  
“If it was him, he’s not alone, unless it was the dead guy that helped him put down the ghouls.”  
Boone looked at Veronica.  
“Yup,” she said for him.

“Doesn’t really get us anywhere. Maybe he passed through here. Maybe not,” said Boone finally.

“Let’s have lunch, I’m famished,” declared Veronica, sitting down and looking in her pack for food. She took out a dented tin of Cram, two boxes of potato crisps, and a warm Nuka-Cola. Gross but it would do.  
They ate quietly, both a little demoralized. They were running out of likely places to look, leaving a million unlikely places.

“We could search Nipton. In-Cult-Fucker loves that place,” suggested Boone.  
“Not a bad idea. He probably thinks no one would look for him there,” Veronica mused. “Yeah let’s do it.”  
“I’m gonna take a little break first,” said Boone, leaning back against a rock and pushing his beret down over his eyes.

Boone had the enviable ability to take a 20 minute nap anywhere, no matter how uncomfortable. He would sit down, go instantly to sleep, and 20 minutes later get up and continue whatever he’d been doing, not groggy at all. 

Veronica pulled out her disintegrating copy of _Nikola Tesla and You_ and flipped through it for the hundredth time.

True to form, 19.5 minutes later Boone was on his feet and walking north towards the traversable part of the hills between them and Nipton. 

Directly towards the safehouse.

***

Vulpes and Vienna, or Seth and Kate as they now called each other, lazed in the sun drinking homemade cocktails of cold water mixed with whiskey and Nevada agave juice. Vulpes was the chef, but Vienna knew drinks. The agave juice was from a mature plant and very slightly hallucinogenic. Not enough to actually hallucinate, but enough to make everything glow a little.

“I used to care so much about all this,” said Vienna dreamily, sitting on the ground between Vulpes’ knees.  
“All what?” asked Vulpes who was on the sofa behind her, unbraiding her hair, trying to reverse engineer it.  
“This,” said Vienna gesturing at the world at large. “I went to... I mean, _incredible_ lengths to try to... I dunno, fix it I guess. Make things work out for everyone, except all the assholes who were actually trying to control it. No offence. But now, I gotta say I’m really struggling to give a damn.”  
“You think I am an asshole for trying to improve people’s lives?” asked Vulpes mildly.  
“How does taking their lives improve them?”  
“Some lives can only be improved by death.”

She turned to look at him. Naturally, he wasn’t kidding.  
“You say these absolutist things...” she said, shaking her head.

Vulpes leaned down and stole a kiss. “You might not feel as if you care right now, but you are the only one that everyone in the Mojave likes. That means, you are the only one who can hold the region together. Lanius’ men and the NCR have retreated for the moment, but they will return once they’ve licked their wounds. And if there is a power vacuum in New Vegas, they will take the city, and the region, with no difficulty. Can you live with that?”

Vienna didn’t answer. She knew she couldn’t tolerate it... but the thought of all the administrative work involved in preventing it made her feel tired.

Vulpes read her mind. He said gently, “You have worked hard, Kate. You simply need a rest. Once you are well rested you will have the energy for it.” He paused. “You don’t have to do all the work yourself, you can appoint lieutenants,” he added.  
Vienna smiled up at him. They both knew what he meant.  
“Not if you’re going to go around ‘improving’ everyone to death.”  
“I will do only what you instruct me,” Vulpes said lightly.  
“ _Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer_ ,” Vienna mused.  
“ _One must be a fox to detect traps, and a lion to deter wolves_ ,” countered Vulpes.  
“Who said that?” she asked.  
“Machiavelli.”  
“Ah. How fitting.”  
“He was an exceptional thinker,” said Vulpes. “And he expressed himself so elegantly it is almost poetry. I have a small book of his on the subject of governance that I would urge you to read if you are going to take on the task of controlling the Mojave. I learned a great deal from it myself.”  
“Mm. Ok, I will later.” Vienna got up and turned to kneel astride him on the sofa. “I know another man who expresses himself so elegantly it’s almost poetry,” she said, kissing his mouth. Vulpes slid his hands up to grab her buttocks, naked under her tunic, and pull her hips flush against his. She ground her hips, relishing the feeling of her clit against his hard cock.  
“You are insatiable,” he whispered between kisses.  
“Only for you,” she replied, smiling wickedly.

The radio played _It’s a Sin to Tell a Lie_.   
But Mr New Vegas had it wrong. Vienna wasn’t lying. She was crazy in love.

***

Boone and Veronica heard faint music. It was bouncing around the ravines and hard to locate the origin of. They climbed up to the top of some rocks to try to pinpoint it. Reaching a high vantage point, they looked around, and a couple of hundred yards to the west saw the safehouse with the fireplace out in front. Near the fireplace was a sofa, and leaning against the back of the sofa they had the side view of a very fit-looking naked male. Kneeling in front of him was a woman clad in a Legion tunic.

The woman was sucking the man’s cock. The man was holding her head and forcing himself roughly in and out of her throat. 

They were some distance away but the Courier was instantly recognisable by her uncommonly long hair. The man, they couldn’t be sure about, but they had a fair idea. He had hair the colour of dark chocolate, and there was a tattoo in the red outline of a bull on the deltoid muscle of his shoulder.

Neither the Courier nor the man saw Boone and Veronica, who both immediately ducked down behind the rocks.  
“Omigod he’s raping her,” said Veronica in a panicked whisper. “Shit! We gotta do something!”

Boone didn’t reply, just took off his rifle and started crawling into a position from which he could aim. Veronica grabbed her scoped plasma pistol and wriggled up beside him. Looking through their scopes, they could see Vulpes’ face clearly. He was baring his teeth and his expression was one of cruelty. Boone swiftly calculated the variables and took a deep breath, preparing to squeeze the trigger. 

He was too late, the couple were changing position. Vulpes lay down on the sofa on his back, his head hidden behind the armrest, and the Courier climbed up on top of him, easing herself down onto his massive cock. There was no mistaking it, the look on her face was one of pure pleasure. She began to ride him like the bullrider she had once been. 

Boone was aghast.

Veronica was mesmerized. “Wow,” she said slowly. 

Vulpes’s hands appeared in view, pushing the Courier’s tunic up to expose her breasts, which drew oblong shapes in the air as she bounced up and down on him.

Boone could not get a clear shot of any part of Vulpes’ body without hitting the Courier too. Or he surely would have. She couldn’t be doing this willingly; she must be being forced somehow. No woman liked being fucked in the mouth like had just happened. And no way would the Courier, of _all_ people, voluntarily be fucking Vulpes Inculta.

It just couldn’t be.

They watched, unable to decide what to do, or even what to say, and equally unable to look away. After a while the couple changed position again. The Courier got on her hands and knees, facing the direction Boone and Veronica were hiding in, and Vulpes got up behind her and took her from behind. The Courier’s body jolted with each slam Vulpes made into her. Her face showed bliss. Vulpes’ face showed a disturbing mixture of bliss and violence.

Boone aimed at Vulpes’ brow. He took another deep breath, held it, and pulled the trigger.


	21. Chapter 21

Lady Luck smiled on Vulpes. At that precise moment he reached down to grab a handful of Vienna’s hair. The .308 round whistled millimetres over his head and thudded into the wall of the safehouse behind him. 

The effect on Vulpes was electric. Instantly he pushed Vienna down flat on her belly and leapt over her, landing in front of the sofa at a sprint. He ran full tilt directly towards Boone and Veronica’s hiding place, jumping smaller rocks and vaulting larger ones.

For a few seconds Boone and Veronica were both frozen to the spot. Vulpes was bearing down on them at speed, and despite being naked, he looked scary as hell. Recovering himself, Boone aimed again, but Veronica grabbed the barrel as he pulled the trigger, and the shot went off-target.  
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Boone growled furiously, trying to wrench the gun away from her.  
“No! Boone, don’t do it,” yelled Veronica.

Vienna was running behind Vulpes, but wasn’t close enough to catch him. Vulpes arrived at Boone in a flying leap, feet first. Being occupied with wrestling Veronica, Boone was unprepared and took one foot to the ribcage and one to the side of his head, knocking him sprawling. Vulpes’ elbow caught Veronica’s cheekbone and she fell backwards and landed awkwardly, banging her head on a rock. 

Boone scrambled to get up but Vulpes was all over him and he lost his footing and went down, his face hitting stones. Vulpes put a knee in Boone’s back and punched the back of his head hard, and again. He was about to land a third blow when Vienna arrived, jumping on Vulpes’ back and getting him in a headlock. Not the polite sort of headlock where the elbow is at the front allowing breathing, but the dangerous kind, the asphyxiating kind, her forearm crushing Vulpes’ trachea. 

She jerked him back and he instinctively pushed himself up and back, falling backwards on top of her. She might have hit her head on the rocks like Veronica had, but instead she hit Veronica herself, who had staggered to her feet right behind them. The three of them folded in an ungainly pile.

“Oof,” grunted Veronica, taking the weight of both of them on her.

Vienna threw Vulpes onto the ground and bellowed in a frightening voice that Vulpes had had the misfortune to hear her use several times in the last few days.  
“NO ONE FUCKING MOVE!” she roared.

No one moved. 

Blood dripped silently off Veronica’s ear onto her shoulder. Boone was frozen half up, on one knee, his eyes locked on Vulpes’. Vulpes was in a crouch, staring at Boone with his lip curled in a snarl and pure venom in his eyes. 

Vienna picked up Boone’s rifle, holding it pointing at the ground.  
“Craig, Veronica, it’s really good to see you,” she said calmly. “You guys look thirsty. Come on over to the house and I’ll fix you a drink.” She moved to Vulpes and put her hand on his shoulder. It was both affectionate and a warning to him.

Still no one moved.  
“Go over to the house.” Vienna’s voice had iron in it now. Veronica and Boone shuffled off towards the safehouse. 

Vulpes stood up, watching them go. Vienna stayed behind with him, her hand still on his shoulder. When they were out of earshot she whispered in Vulpes’ ear.  
“They are my closest friends and you will not touch them.”  
“Your ‘friend’ tried to take my head off,” Vulpes stated in a monotone, still staring at Boone, his eyes alight with anger.  
“Of course he did,” Vienna smiled at him. “You’re the fox. He’s the hound.”  
Vulpes looked at her sideways then snorted.  
She put her arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. “Come on. I won’t let him hurt you.” She grinned.  
“Pff,” said Vulpes, looking again at Boone’s retreating back.

Boone was shaking his head in disbelief and muttering to himself. Veronica took his hand, but he jerked it away.  
“The fuck, Veronica,” he said through gritted teeth. “I had him right there. Dead. What the hell got into you?”  
“We can’t kill him now. You saw what I saw. There’s something going on.”  
“Yeah something totally fucked up.” Boone grimaced, the scene on the sofa burned into his retinas.  
“Come on, Boone. Vienna knows what she’s doing. They’re obviously...” Veronica waved her hand, “Involved, in some way. Maybe he was working for her all along. Hey yeah! Maybe that’s why we took to Fort so easily, I did think that was weird.”  
“Oh yeah then why the hell would she just disappear like that? Leaving us to walk fifty miles of desert looking for her? And by the way, there’s no way that prick would go against the Legion. His whole job was licking Caesar’s ass.”  
“Eww, Boone.” Veronica wrinkled up her nose.  
“And I guess you noticed she’s wearing Legion colours?”  
“Mm,” said Veronica. She couldn’t really think of an excuse for that.

At the safehouse, Veronica perched on the edge of the sofa, trying to clean up her bloodied head. The wound was small but had bled a lot.  
Boone sat on the ground as far away from the sofa as possible without being out of earshot. He folded his arms and rested them on his bent knees, and dropped his head to his forearms. He looked at the dirt below him and wished to be absorbed into it. He tried to think of nothing. It never worked. He saw the scene on the sofa again, her face, open-mouthed... If only he could ever just switch his damned brain off.

“Y’ok, Boonie?” called Veronica softly. 

Boone didn’t respond. His world was disintegrating again. The Courier was not his friend; she was with the Legion somehow. And she was fucking another man. Not just any man, but a world-class prick, the worst she could possibly have chosen. Veronica was not his friend either; she had intervened to protect the Legion fuckhead, piling on more humiliation. 

Vulpes and Vienna walked back to the safehouse talking quietly, and on reaching it they went inside. Downstairs, Vulpes got dressed. He didn’t choose his Legion tunic, instead he put on his merc grunt outfit; he wanted the Courier’s friends to understand that he was independent now.

Vienna made a fresh jug of cocktail mixture, with extra agave juice, and picked up two more glasses.

Before she reached the stairs Vulpes took her in a close embrace. He backed her up against the wall, looking into her eyes, and pressed his body against hers. He kissed her deeply. He had noticed that whenever he kissed her, she softened towards him for a while afterwards. He wanted her on his side now.  
“I love you, Kate Quantrill,” he said softly.  
She didn’t answer but he saw her eyes melt. He let go of her and they went upstairs.

Out in the sun again, Vulpes sat down on the other end of the sofa from Veronica, and struck a very relaxed pose, one arm stretched along the back of the sofa, and one foot on the other knee. Inside he was coiled like a spring, but he wasn’t going to let them know it.

Vienna poured two cocktails from the jug, gave one to Veronica, put the second down next to Boone, and topped up her and Vulpes’ drinks.  
“Here’s lookin’ at you, kids,” she toasted, saluting the newcomers. Veronica raised her glass, but Boone was still. He had shut down. Vulpes sardonically lifted his glass, looking only at Vienna.

Vienna went over to hug Veronica, giving her a kiss on each cheek. Veronica returned the hug happily.

“What the hell happened to you, Vienna?” Veronica asked. “We’ve been searching the whole Mojave for you. Cass and Raul are still searching, up north.”  
“Oh man, it’s a long story,” replied Vienna, going over to hug Boone’s unresponsive body. She sat down next to him, with her arms around him and her head resting affectionately on his shoulder.  
“I’m so glad you guys are here. I really missed you,” she said.

Vulpes watched Vienna’s hand rub Boone’s broad shoulders, his face completely expressionless.

Vienna, though unaware of Boone’s newfound feelings for her, could see that that something was wrong. She wanted to talk to Boone, to explain, but he was closed for business.

“You might as well tell the ‘long story’, we’ve got nowhere special to be,” observed Veronica, sipping her drink. “Yum. Why are you wearing Legion colours, by the way?” she asked on Boone’s behalf.  
“My clothes were destroyed, and this was the only thing available.”  
Veronica looked sceptical. “You could have popped over to the Mojave Outpost for a new outfit. Or just looted one from Nipton over there.”  
“It’s part of the long story,” said Vienna uncomfortably.  
“Huh. Ok,” Veronica smiled lightly. “Hey before you tell it, is there some water in there I can wash my hands with?”  
“Sure, go on in,” Vienna said, not getting up. She couldn’t leave the two men alone together safely, yet. Or probably ever.

Veronica went in, and came out again soon after with the blood washed off her head and hands, carrying the _Cat’s Paw_.  
“Oh, heh, you’re gonna love that,” said Vienna, grinning widely, glad to change the subject. 

“ _Myron’s, keep your sticky fingers off_ ,” Veronica read aloud. “Hmm, I wonder if this is _the_ Myron,” she said thoughtfully.  
“Which Myron?” asked Vienna.  
“The chemist who invented Jet. He’s legendary. Supposedly he was hired by some gangsters in New Reno to create a drug to keep their hookers happy. And to make new girls into hookers. And of course it happened to be supremely addictive and they made a grand profit selling it to other suckers.”  
“Oh. Suddenly Jet doesn’t seem so appealing anymore,” said Vienna.  
“It seemed appealing before?”  
“Um. I kinda had some the other day and, I have to be honest, I really liked it. Like, _really_ liked it.” Vienna started to laugh. “I guess that makes me an ideal New Reno hooker!”  
“And you thought I was qualified for that job,” Vulpes remarked.  
“Everyone who tries it really likes it, Vee, that’s the whole point. And, what?” said Veronica, raising an eyebrow at Vulpes.  
Vulpes smiled beatifically at her. Veronica was hypnotised for a moment, then forced herself to look away.

Vienna swirled her drink around, staring at it pensively. “The reason I liked it is that it made me not care about anything at all. I really just couldn’t have given a flying fuck. And I still don’t, to be honest. It was so... liberating. We have some downstairs, by the way. If you wanna try it,” she offered.  
“Hell no,” Veronica said firmly.  
“I’ll try it,” said Boone unexpectedly, looking up without meeting anyone’s eye.  
“Don’t do it, Boone, it’s addictive as all get-out,” warned Veronica.  
“I’ll try it,” he repeated softly. The idea of not caring about anything at all was irresistible to him.  
Vienna shrugged. “Your call, Craig. I liked it, but what Veronica says is also true, we’ve all seen the Jet junkies around.”  
Boone nodded, and gestured with his chin for her to bring him some.

Vulpes watched impassively as Vienna went into the safehouse and brought back a canister, taking it to Boone.  
“My advice would be to only inhale half. That much and you will be pleasantly high. A full dose and you will be visiting another world,” he said.  
Boone sucked the whole lot in. Everyone watched him, Vulpes with interest, Vienna with mild concern, Veronica with serious disapproval.

“Vee, can I have a word with you in private?” asked Veronica.  
“Sure,” said Vienna. She moved a short distance away, from which she could still watch the men and reach them quickly if need be.  
Veronica followed her, and whispered furiously in her ear, holding her hand up to shield her words.  
“That was a mistake. Boone is in love with you. Seeing you romping with ‘Mr Fox’ just broke his heart. He’s vulnerable and you should not be pumping him with addictive drugs.”

Vienna was speechless for a moment. Then she snorted.  
“Craig is not in love with me Vero. I know that for a fact,” she whispered back.  
“He is. Believe me. He has been freaking out since you went missing. He has nightmares about it every night.”  
“Maybe it’s just déjà vu,” suggested Vienna uncertainly.  
“Yeah. Maybe it is,” said Veronica with a meaningful look.  
“Oh.” Vienna bit her lip.


	22. Chapter 22

Craig Boone slowly lay back, staring up at the sky. He didn’t feel the stony ground beneath him. He floated upwards on cotton wool, higher and higher, till he was surrounded by the vast blue sky. The ground was far below him. He could see everything. He grew wings and became an eagle, soaring through the sky, swooping down, in and out of canyons, then up through clouds. There was no sound, and no movement, except for him. Up high, above the clouds, he found other eagles, and two of them flew in formation with him, scoping the land, scouring the skies, like a perfect reconnaissance unit. It felt glorious.

The two women sat on either side of Boone’s prone body, sipping their drinks nervously and glancing down at him with troubled faces.   
Vulpes got up and went into the safehouse, returning with a pre-war book, _Commentarii de Bello Gallico_ by Gaius Julius Caesar. He went back to the sofa, and began reading.

Looking down, Veronica murmured, “Wow, look at that.” Boone had the biggest, happiest smile on his face either of them had ever seen on him. Even bigger than when he had shot Caesar, and much happier.  
“How long does this last?” asked Veronica.  
“Not sure, time distorts when you take it, so I can’t remember,” Vienna replied.  
“About an hour and a half,” said Vulpes, without looking up from his book.

Veronica stared at Vulpes. She had been trying to get a good look at him since they arrived, but every time she had snuck a glance in his direction, he had sensed it and turned to gaze at her, and she’d had to look away. Meeting his eyes was like looking into the sun. You could get burnt.  
“What in hell are you doing with him?” she whispered to Vienna. “You know he’s evil-on-a-stick, right?”  
“Mmm. It’s hard to explain.”  
“Try me.”  
Vienna looked at her friend, took a deep breath - and then just sighed. She didn’t know how to explain it in a way that wouldn’t make Veronica transition from suspecting that she had lost her mind to being certain of it.

As it happened she didn’t have to say anything because at that moment Craig Boone sat up and kissed her. 

Vulpes was on his feet in a split second, and reached them by the end of the second. Vienna frantically tried to shake Boone off but his arms were wrapped round hers and he was holding her in an iron grip.   
Veronica threw herself between Vulpes and Boone, punching Vulpes hard in the stomach to stop him. She was strong but she didn’t have a good angle and it had almost no effect; her bare knuckles bounced off hard muscle.

Ignoring Veronica completely, Vulpes thrust one arm across Vienna’s collarbone to hold her in place, spread his other hand out on Boone’s face, and brutally shoved him backwards. Boone’s head was forced back but he didn’t let go. Vulpes’ palm was around Boone’s chin, and his fingers were in his eyes. The temptation to hook his eyes out was strong. Kate would not like that, though. He resisted the urge, and focused on pushing Boone down.

An electronic sound behind Vulpes’ ear made him pause to look around. Veronica was holding her plasma pistol, aimed at his head.  
“Let go,” said Veronica. She had the same faint smile on her face that Vulpes had seen when she killed Lucius.  
Vulpes let go.  
Veronica’s mistake was standing too close. That and underestimating his speed. He snatched the pistol and twisted her arm behind her back, the pistol now pointing at her own head.  
“Goddamnit,” she muttered.  
“Don’t worry, nothing bad will happen to your friends. Go sit down and be good,” said Vulpes in a silky smooth voice. Veronica went and sat down. Vulpes flicked the safety on and threw the gun onto the roof of the safehouse. He turned back to resume extricating Vienna from Boone’s grasp but it wasn’t necessary. Boone was lying back down again, gazing at the sky peacefully, as if nothing had happened.

“Do you need your man to protect you like that, Vienna?” asked Veronica sarcastically. She was severely pissed off. Vienna was behaving so strangely, letting Vulpes completely control her. It wasn’t the Courier she knew. That Courier would never have let some man pull her strings like this.

Vienna looked at her. She started to say something and stopped. Vulpes had warned her he would kill Boone if he tried to touch her, and she was immensely relieved he had not done so. Vulpes was behaving well, not badly, all things considered; but how could she explain that to Veronica? She suddenly felt very distressed; she had known her friends would hate him, but now they were starting to hate her too, and she couldn’t bear that. 

She got up to move out of Boone’s reach. He might not get a second chance. Biting her lip again she went over to the sofa and sat down next to Veronica.  
“Vero, when Boone wakes up I have something I want to say to both of you. All of you,” she said, glancing at Vulpes.  
Veronica’s brown eyes were hard. She said, “Can’t wait to hear this.”  
Vienna’s face fell further. “Just give me a chance Vero. Please,” she said quietly.  
Her friend stared stonily at her. Vienna sighed and looked away. Boone was still lying on his back, now with his hands raised in the air above him, as though reaching up for something.

Vulpes observed this interaction and wondered again why the Courier tolerated these people as ‘friends’. She was staring sightlessly at the ground and he saw that she was deeply upset. He got up and went to her, and taking her hand, led her away from the safehouse, over the crest of the hill. When they were out of view, he stopped and held her tightly. He had no real experience of comforting someone who was in distress, but a hug seemed an obvious first step. She accepted it gratefully, leaning her head against his shoulder, with her face pressed into his neck. 

“My own friends hate me,” she said miserably, her voice muffled against his skin.  
Vulpes replied bluntly, “They are idiots.” He didn’t see the point of mincing words.  
“No, they aren’t, they just don’t... can’t understand.”  
“Do they have to understand everything you do?”  
Vulpes tilted her head up and looked into her eyes. She couldn’t answer, so he let her off the hook and kissed her instead.

After a while they returned to the others. Vulpes collected Veronica’s plasma pistol from the roof on the way back, and, sitting down on the sofa next to her, placed it between them, closer to her. She looked at him and he gazed back at her steadily. He was demonstrating that he had no fear of her, and it was quite effective. Veronica looked away, and didn’t touch the pistol.

Vienna sat on the ground, between Vulpes’ knees. She leaned back and shut her eyes, feeling the sun on her face. Vulpes resumed reading his book. Boone was still in the clouds, smiling, the lines around his eyes relaxed for the first time in many months.   
Veronica read the _Cat’s Paw_.  
“There’s an interesting article about energy weapons in here,” she said after a while, as though to make peace. Vienna didn’t reply, and nothing more was said until an hour later when Boone woke up. 

***

As the Jet wore off, Boone became aware of his surroundings. A pebble was pressing into the back of his head and he sat up, rubbing the place it had dented. He felt good. Really, really good, as though a tremendous weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

He got up, slightly unsteady on his feet, and zigzagged over to the Courier, who was sitting on the ground. Sitting down in front of her, he beamed at her until she smiled back.  
“It’s all bullshit,” he said.  
Only Vienna knew what he meant. “I know!” she said, breaking out into a huge grin. “Total bullshit, right?”  
“Total bullshit,” he agreed, laughing.

Vienna twisted to look up at Vulpes. “I’m just gonna give my friend a hug, ok? Be cool.”   
Veronica rolled her eyes. Vulpes gave a little hand gesture indicating permission. The two friends hugged tightly, Vienna ruffling Boone’s short hair with one hand, both smiling from ear to ear.

“She has to get permission to hug you from her fascist boyfriend,” noted Veronica.  
“That’s cool, whatever,” said Boone. He truly didn’t care. The Jet had worked its magic, and he felt as light as air. He broke the hug and went over to hug Veronica, to see if he could squeeze the bad mood out of her.  
“Let... me... breathe,” squeaked Veronica. Boone’s affection assault was irresistible, she couldn’t help but smile.  
“I love you two pretty ladies,” said Boone happily, looking back and forth between them.  
Vienna said, “Oh, Craig, I am so glad to see you smile, you have no idea.”  
Boone went over to his abandoned drink and gulped it down thirstily. Vienna got up and poured him another, and topped everyone else up.

When they were all sitting comfortably with a drink in their hands, Vienna stood facing them.   
“I’ve got something important I’d like to say,” she began. They all looked at her, unused to the hesitancy in her voice. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for a backlash.  
“This isn’t the first time in the history of mankind that someone has taken a lover that all their friends hate. It’s probably not even the first time today, somewhere in the Mojave. And what usually happens is, the friends take it upon themselves to try their damnedest to break that couple up, supposedly for the benefit of that person. They always fail, and the person gets mad with their meddling friends and breaks up with them instead. Then everyone’s miserable. I don’t wanna go down that road.” She paused to take a breath.   
“I know you have very valid reasons for hating Vulpes, and he actually has his own valid reasons for hating you back. I know it’s not realistic to ask you to like each other. But it would be really great, it would mean a hell of a lot to me, if you could just accept my choice, and put your mutual hatred to one side and be civil towards each other, for my sake.”

No one said anything.   
“Is that too much to ask?”  
Vulpes stood up, and went over to her. “It’s fine with me.” He kissed her cheek lightly and disappeared into the safehouse.  
“Craig and Vero?”  
“It’s fine by me too,” decided Boone, saluting her with his glass. His pupils were still a little dilated.  
“What are these ‘valid reasons’ he has for hating us?” queried Veronica.  
Vienna kept her voice low. “You know he was taken into the Legion as a child, right? Well, Caesar became a father figure to him. And Lucius, a brother. When you kill anyone in war, no matter how justified, you have to deal with the fact that they had people who cared about them.”  
“Uh huh, and did you know he killed Arcade?”  
“Yes. I’ve forgiven him for it. As he’s forgiven me for ordering Lucius and Caesar’s deaths, and chasing the Legion out of the Mojave.”  
“I was wondering about that. Why on earth would he forgive you?” Veronica was curious.  
“Cos he’s all about looking forward, not looking back,” said Vienna, making it up.  
Boone raised his glass again, and his voice was heartfelt. “Here’s to that. Fuck the past.”


	23. Chapter 23

Vulpes returned with various foodstuffs and cooking utensils. He had taught himself to cook during years of away missions, camping out with just a few men and whatever ingredients they had picked up along the way. Decent food significantly improved the men’s morale, he’d noticed. Not to mention his own. Kneeling by the fireplace now, he started to prepare dinner; strips of bighorner meat, shoots from banana yucca plants and jalapeño peppers all sautéed together, over noodles. It smelt good, and when it was ready, no one turned it down. They sat around the fire and ate like starving hyenas.

The taste was excellent, and Veronica and Boone thawed slightly towards Vulpes.

More drinks were drunk, a vast pink orange and yellow sunset blossomed in the western sky, and the evening air cooled pleasantly.

“Hey Vienna, I have a present for you,” said Boone with a twinkle in his eye. He got up, rustled in his pack, then pulled out an ornate leather double hip holster with one pistol still in it.   
“Oh! LUCKY!” yelled Vienna grabbing the .357 magnum revolver and kissing it reverently. “Oh wow! Craig, thank you.”  
“No problem. Sorry, I didn’t find Maria.”   
“Naw, it doesn’t matter. Easy come, easy go,” Vienna smiled. “I’m hell of a glad to see Lucky again though.” 

She flipped the gun around a bit, feeling its familiar weight. She buckled the holster on, then had an idea and ran into the safehouse. When she came out, she had Vulpes’ Mauser in her hand. She holstered both guns, then pulled them out in a flash, faster than the eye could see.  
“Kick ass,” she said, nodding appreciatively to herself.

When Boone had pulled the holster out, a little piece of paper had come out of his pack unnoticed and fluttered gently to the ground, landing at Veronica’s feet. She picked it up and looked at it. It was the Legion receipt for Carla Boone.  
“Woah,” she said, reading it. She’d heard Boone and Vienna talk of it once but not seen it herself before. It was signed by one man, on the authority of another.  
“Vulpes, do you know Scribonius Libo Drusus or Licinius Crassus?” she asked thoughtfully.  
“Yes,” replied Vulpes, looking at the piece of paper in her hand. He had an idea he knew what it was.  
“Do you know where they are?”  
“Drusus is dead. I believe Crassus is in Flagstaff. Why do you ask?”  
“They killed Boone’s wife,” whispered Veronica, abbreviating the story somewhat.  
“No they didn’t.”  
“Well, they kidnapped her for slavery which made Boone have to kill her.”  
“No, she did not die of that wound, it was glancing.”  
“WHAT?!” yelled Veronica so loudly the other two turned to look at her in alarm. “She’s alive? Omigod Boone! You didn’t kill Carla! She’s alive!”  
Boone stared open-mouthed at her.  
“She is not alive. She died in childbirth,” Vulpes said calmly.  
No one knew what to say.  
“Her child, however, is alive,” he added as an afterthought.

This bombshell left everyone momentarily stunned. Except Vulpes of course, who nonchalantly sipped his cocktail. Then everyone spoke at once. Vulpes ignored them all. He was regretting having mentioned it. Now the Courier would get sidetracked off onto some wild goose chase looking for the child, instead of getting herself, and him, to the Lucky 38 where they needed to be.

“Where? Where is it? Who has it?”  
“Is it a boy or a girl?”  
“What’s her name? Or his? Would you recognise her?”  
“How do you know about this, Vulpes?”

Vulpes sighed. There was no going back now. He was going to have to humour them.  
“I know about it because I took a personal interest, since it was I who chose Carla Boone to be the example we made to the NCR and anyone who would join. The child is a boy, named Gaius Marius. I don’t know where he is. I probably would not recognise him, he is a baby, they all look alike.”

These revelations, rather than quietening them down, caused even more uproar.

“What do you mean you chose her?”  
“What example?”  
“Who has him?”  
Vulpes patiently explained. “It was part of a propaganda campaign aimed at demoralising existing NCR troops, and deterring potential recruits. Beloved family members of current and ex-NCR staff would be abducted from right under their noses. I was put in charge of deciding who, and I chose Carla Boone, amongst others, for several reasons, no longer important now. As for who has the child, he was in the care of a slave who functioned as a wet nurse to orphans. And no, I don’t know her real name, and I don’t know where she is now.”

“What ‘several reasons’?”  
“Good grief! How could you do that?”  
“Would you recognise her? The slave?”

Vulpes sighed again, deeply. He mentally cursed himself for having said anything about it at all. Better to have let sleeping dogs lie.  
“Carla Boone was an optimum candidate because she was married to a well-known and popular ex-soldier,” he gestured in Boone’s direction, “who had been in their top sniper unit. Having her vanish from his side made a very frightening story for other NCR families. Plus, she was heavily pregnant, adding to the grisly effect of the story. Furthermore, she herself was worthy of nothing better than death, having been a prostitute in New Vegas before she married.”

This statement as a whole was so appalling that for a moment they were all struck silent. Then Boone spoke.  
“She was a waitress.”  
Vulpes shrugged. He knew better, but saw no point in arguing over it.  
Boone repeated, aggressively, “She was a waitress.”  
“Calm down Boonie, he’s just trying to get at you,” said Veronica, putting a hand on Boone’s shoulder.  
Vulpes replied, “I am not trying to do any such thing. I no longer care either way, but it is not a lie. She was a whore; you can enquire with your friend Manny if you don’t believe me. Or better yet, ask the other whores at the Gomorrah.” He gazed at Boone and raised his eyebrows insolently.  
“You mean whore as in a Legion-style ‘all women are whores’ kind of thing, surely? Not an actual, do-it-for-cash whore.” said Veronica.  
“The latter.”  
“No,” said Boone in a low voice, shaking his head.  
Vulpes cocked his head to one side. “Did you ever see her ‘waitressing’? Didn’t you ever wonder why your friend Manny tried so hard to get you away from her? He was a better friend than you think.” He smiled humourlessly. “Never mind. It hardly matters now,” he said, losing interest in the conversation.

“How do you know Manny?” asked Vienna.   
Vulpes just shrugged.  
“No, really, stop holding out. How do you know him, and what else do you know?” she pressed.  
“It was part of my remit to know all about your companions, dear Courier.” Vulpes looked at his hands and made a show of appearing bored. He didn’t want this conversation to go much further. The amount of information he knew about her companions would take all night to detail.

“Shall we go to New Vegas tonight, as you planned?” he asked, to change the subject.  
“No... we have to find Craig’s son,” said Vienna slowly.  
Vulpes replied, “You still need to visit New Vegas first. There are civil matters you must resolve. The programming of the securitrons, for example.”  
“I hate to agree with Professor Evil here, but we do need to visit Vegas,” put in Veronica. “Cass and Raul are searching for you and going to meet us there. We have to meet up with them, or at least leave them a note.”

Boone was staring at the ground, racked with early memories of Carla, wondering which of them might have been clues. It wouldn’t have changed anything, he still would have loved her. Probably. Maybe. But he wished she hadn’t lied to him; he couldn’t help but wonder what else she might have lied about. 

Vienna was thinking hard. “What did you guys do with all the slaves afterwards, at the Fort?” she asked Veronica.  
“We set them free, and left them to their own devices,” admitted Veronica. “We didn’t really know what else to do with them.” She remembered something. “I did tell them that anyone who needed medical assistance should head for Freeside. And to be honest, they were in such bad condition,” she shot a nasty look at Vulpes, “that I’d say they pretty much all needed medical attention.”

Vienna made a decision. “Ok. We are a bit drunk for traveling now, and you guys look exhausted, but at first light we leave for Vegas. I’ll sort out the securitrons, we meet up with Cass and Raul, and Vulpes and Craig can check out Freeside in case the woman with Craig’s son headed there.” 

They all agreed, and went to get some rest. Veronica and Boone downstairs, on the beds. Vulpes and Vienna moved the couch inside and lay down on it together, upstairs. 

Vulpes kissed Vienna but she didn’t respond. He kissed her again, deeply, his tongue licking hers. After a while she kissed him back. He reached down and caressed her pussy with his fingers, slipping them in and spreading her moisture, then he moved on top of her, pulled one of her knees up and slowly entered her, kissing her all the while. She was warm and wet inside. He made love to her for a long time, in silence, the only sound being her soft breaths.

Afterwards, Vienna slept. But Vulpes was awake off and on all night, stroking Vienna’s hair and thinking about what would happen in the next few days. It may have been a mistake to reveal the existence of Boone’s offspring... but it served one useful purpose. Boone would not try to kill him now. He needed Vulpes, to identify the child’s carer and thus the child. Should he prolong the search indefinitely, to protect himself? No, that would not do, it would be a waste of his own time. Besides, the sniper no longer seemed very interested in revenge. Once he had a son to occupy his time, he may even go away of his own accord.

Downstairs, Boone was also awake. A son. It was a magical thought, and he couldn’t stop smiling, then frowning when he remembered the boy was missing, then smiling again at the thought of finding him.


	24. Chapter 24

_Seth Dove lies on his bedmat, listening to his younger brother and older sister sleep. It is that quiet. He thinks of the molerat he trapped that day, in a trap he’d constructed himself, which he’d brought home and helped his mother skin, gut and cook for dinner. Everyone had liked it. His father had been proud of him, calling him the Family Trapper. He’d said that with Seth’s skills getting so good, the family would never go hungry again, and that he was a good example to his little brother._

_The perfect silence is shattered by a loud shout, then gunfire, then more shouting. Seth recognises the initial shout as from the man of the family in the next hut. The other voice is unfamiliar to him. He leaps out of bed and runs to the front door. By now more voices have joined the shouting, and the shrieking of women and children provides a chorus. He is met at the door by a large man in a strange outfit, who grabs him by the shoulder. He wriggles out from the grasp and darts between the man’s legs to run around the back of the shack. Now the shouting and screaming is ringing in his ears from all around._

_He scurries to the open window at the back to help his brother and sister out but they have already been seized by the man. Seth shouts to gain the man’s attention, to make him let go of his siblings, but the man doesn’t let go, he just barks orders to unseen others. Seth retreats into the bushes, and wonders desperately what to do. He hears his father shout, then a gunshot, then his mother screams in a way he has never heard before. The sound stops the blood in his veins._

_To run into the canyon and hide, Seth would be safe, he knows every inch of the area; but he cannot leave his family behind. Instead he waits for the men looking for him to give up and go back around the front, then slips through the open window. The room is empty now. From under the edge of his bedmat, he grabs the rusty Varmint rifle that he had been ceremonially presented with on his 10th birthday, and creeps through the shack towards the sound of voices. His father’s body lies on the floor in the passageway. Seth silently feels for his pulse but there is none to feel._

_He moves on, looking for his mother, but the shack is empty now, and at the front door he sees that all the tribe are being rounded up and herded into the centre of the settlement, by the well. The men are being forced to their knees and shot. Old people are being thrown into the well, not even worth a bullet. The women and children are being made to form a rough line, and the large man is inspecting the line. As he passes each one, he says a word in a language Seth doesn’t recognise, and the men walking behind him execute them. No one seems to pass the inspection._

_His mother and siblings are near the end of the line. Seth crouches low and runs to a location from which he can get the shot he needs. He is quick and no one sees him. The men are beginning to approach his family. Seth raises the rifle and aims. His hands are shaking. He wills himself to be calm, as his father would have told him to be, and aims directly at the head of the large man. Holding his breath he pulls the trigger, just as the man looks at his mother._

_His aim is true and the bullet enters the man’s skull between his ear and his eye. He drops to the ground, and Seth frantically reloads and takes another shot, aiming now for the head of the nearest man running for him. The man drops. There is no time to reload before the others reach him, so he dashes away, skirting around the settlement, reloading as he runs towards another location from which he can get a clean shot. He reaches his destination and drops to one knee, aiming again._

_There his luck, if it can be called that, runs out. He is grabbed from behind by men who had been patrolling the perimeter of the settlement. They confiscate his gun and drag him to where the others are still lined up. He is held in a headlock, kicking ineffectually, facing his terrified mother, siblings and the few remaining women and children, all sobbing and shaking with fear._

_A man with dark hair and pale blue eyes, who had been standing aside from the action, approaches him and speaks in the language he understands._  
 _“You just killed two of my men. You show a lot of spunk for your age, small boy.”_  
 _Seth does not answer, just tries to stare the man down._  
 _The man smiles, and, still looking at him, says something in the other language._  
 _A deafening burst of gunfire erupts, and Seth’s mother, brother and sister collapse in a bloodied tangle. Seth’s soul collapses with them._

_Later, he learns that the blue-eyed man’s name is Joshua Graham, the Malpais Legate. It would be a dozen years before he got his revenge._


	25. Chapter 25

Before dawn, Vulpes got up and moved silently around the safehouse, methodically packing for the journey and tidying the place up. He wanted to leave the safehouse in good condition, since Mars only knew, he may be back, if everything turned to cram. He packed all perishable foodstuffs and most of the medical supplies. He left behind his tunic and dog head uniform. No use for those in Vegas, unless maybe for the Courier to play dress up in... it had been sort of cute last time... no. Sex games were fun, but mockery he couldn’t abide and he didn’t want to make it too easy for her to go from one to the other. 

Once he was organised he went outside, lit the fire and began to prepare a large breakfast for four. It would be a long day.

The sun was just about to breach the horizon. Vulpes looked at the rising light and thought about what coming days might hold. He had survived Round One with Craig Boone. Two if you counted the Fort. Maybe even won it. It remained to be seen if there would be a rematch. He thought about Kate. Was she really his, or just experiencing a temporary hypnosis? Would things be the same between them once they got to Vegas, her home turf? She would have a lot of power, and that could change people. If anything started to come between him and her, he was going need to act fast on eliminating it. That included any _one_. 

When breakfast was nearly ready, he opened the safehouse door and turned the radio on. The smell of cooking wafted in through the open door and woke the others up. They drifted outside like zombies, rubbing their eyes. Vulpes threw some Coyote Tobacco Chew into the fire, and the radio began to play _Jingle Jangle Jingle_ , the combined effects of which lightened everyone up.

It was going to be about a 12-hour walk to Vegas, not including rest stops or any combat situations they may encounter. They decided to do it all in one day, with regular small stops to replenish their energy. 

Once they were on the road, Boone asked if they could go via Novac. He wouldn’t say why, just that he had something to do there. Everyone guessed it was to see Manny.

The long, long walk gave them all a lot of time to observe each other. 

***

Vienna noticed that Vulpes and Boone had a similar pattern, in where they preferred to walk in relation to the others, and where they would choose to sit when stopped for a break. Both liked to keep a good view of the surrounding terrain. Neither was too keen on showing their back to the other, so they were walking exactly parallel to each other, on opposite sides of the road. Vulpes was carrying a sniper rifle he had taken from the safehouse. With that and his Merc grunt outfit and Lucky Shades on, he looked a bit like Boone. A slender, dark-haired Boone, with an avenging angel’s face and a coffin-shaped heart.

She reflected that the two men were not so different from each other. They were like flipsides of the same coin, even. Military men, hardened by experience; deeply loyal, both to their factions and to their women. Neither liked frivolity or had too much of a sense of humour. Both were meticulous about weapon maintenance. Both had cried in front of her. 

Remembering those occasions, Vienna cringed. There was something heartwrenching about a man crying, that wasn’t there when a woman cried. She, Veronica and Cass cried all the time and it hardly meant anything. Cass had once cried when Raul threw an empty can of pork & beans over some rocks, not realising she was there, and it had bounced off her head. She said later that she had been crying about the indignity, not the pain. Veronica had once cried over an issue of _Salesman Weekly_ that featured a four-page spread for the latest Spring Catalogue of department store evening wear. “No one will _ever_ make dresses like this again!” she had sobbed. Everyone, but especially Boone, had just watched her in bewilderment.

***

Vulpes was thinking about Boone. When he’d first heard that Carla Boone had been clipped by a bullet on the auction stage he’d wondered if it might have been her husband, aiming at a legionary and missing. But apparently he had actually intended to shoot his own wife. What an interesting choice of action. Craig Boone would rather kill a pregnant woman than let her be with someone else.

He fell into step beside Boone, who ignored him.   
“You tried to shoot me, which I understand, but you could have killed the Courier, had she raised her head at that moment,” he said conversationally.   
Boone said nothing.  
Vulpes persisted. “You knew that, yet you took the risk.” He turned his head to gaze directly at Boone.  
“There was no risk,” grunted Boone, taking the bait.  
“A bullet from a sniper rifle can easily pass through two people and kill both. I wonder why you did not wait for her to raise her head and try to shoot her together with me, as you tried to shoot your wife when she became destined to be with a man of the Legion.”   
This was seriously inflammatory and Vulpes knew it. He wanted to see what Boone would say. Or do, either was fine.

24 hours previously, Boone would immediately have attacked Vulpes for making such a statement. But now he kept walking, and actually thought about it.  
“I shot Carla to save her from slavery. And I didn’t shoot Vienna because I didn’t want to. So your theory is wrong,” he eventually said.  
“You could have tried to rescue her first. Your wife, I mean.”  
“What would my chances of success have been?” asked Boone, looking at Vulpes for the first time.  
Vulpes smiled like a crocodile.  
“Thought so,” muttered Boone. Curiosity got the better of him. “What would you have done, in my situation?” he asked.  
“Rescued her,” said Vulpes without hesitation.  
“You just said that was impossible.”  
“Impossible for you.”  
“Man, fuck you.”  
“You still had options. You could have joined the Legion as a recruit. Said you’d seen the light. Bided your time, then bought her.”  
Boone thought about that. It had never occurred to him. He didn’t think he could have pulled it off anyway.   
Vulpes spoke again. “Although, she died one month later anyway, and there was nothing you could have done about that.”  
“Maybe she wouldn’t have died in childbirth if she’d received proper medical care,” said Boone angrily.  
“Our midwives are quite skilful, actually. Were,” said Vulpes without rancour. “She haemorrhaged and lost a great deal of blood, so they said. I don’t think any doctor could have saved her. It was very fortunate the baby survived.”

Tears pricked Boone’s eyes and he looked up at the sky, trying not to let images enter his mind.  
Vulpes, newly aware of what it felt like to love a woman, and looking forward to having his own sons, suddenly felt slightly sorry for Boone.  
“We’ll find your child,” he said, and moved away to catch up with Vienna.

Boone watched him reach Vienna’s side and meet her eyes. She put her arm around Vulpes’ waist and said a word at him, smiling. He smiled back, slung his arm around her shoulders and said a single word back to her. Whenever Vulpes looked at her, he got a strange light in his eyes.

Boone’s eyes bored into the back of Vienna’s head, focusing on her to forget what Vulpes had just said. He wondered what she was playing at. This couldn’t be real, despite her assurances of the previous night. She must be playing Vulpes for some advantage. Maybe to find out the Legion’s secrets, so she could attack and destroy Lanius in Arizona. Or maybe to identify and kill the recently ex-Legion men now wandering the Mojave.

Whatever it was, Boone decided to let her get on with it. His own obsession with the Legion was fading. Now he just wanted to find his son, and take care of him. If that meant being friendly, or at least neutral, towards Vulpes, then that was a bitter pill he was prepared to swallow.

***

The trip to Novac was not especially eventful. Just short of Ranger Station Charlie, the group were attacked by six Viper Gang gunslingers high on Psycho, but they were easily crushed. There is an advantage in fighting opponents on Psycho, being that it makes them reckless; and the Vipers, instead of laying an ambush, made themselves known from far away. Before any of them could reach the Courier’s group, they were lying bleeding on the dusty ground. 

Veronica tidied up the ones who were still crawling, with her plasma pistol. Nice tidy piles of ashes, very hygienic. Arcade would have approved.

Zapping the highwaymen made Veronica feel a lot better. She had been out of sorts since they had found Vienna and discovered her bizarre secret romance. So much for them all scouring the desert for her - she hadn’t even been trying to be found. The situation was confusing and annoying, which was making Veronica feel bitchy, which wasn’t her style and was in turn making her feel bad. 

She decided to try to talk to Vienna about it again, but couldn’t immediately, as Vienna was walking arm in arm with Vulpes and they were making doe eyes at each other. Veronica watched them, perplexed. They seemed to have both gone mad. If either was faking it, they were doing a bang-up job. Then again... both of them were known for their guile. Could one be playing the other? Or both? Now, that could get ugly; but it would sure be funny. If Vienna came out on top.

Boone caught up with her.  
“Do you think he’s telling the truth? About my son?” he asked, quietly so only Veronica heard.  
“I don’t know Boonie. Maybe. He could be lying just to fuck with you I suppose. Or to give you a reason not to kill him, maybe,” she replied, shrugging.   
Boone looked pretty depressed at that, so she added, “But it sounded plausible, the way he described it. I believed it.”  
“I have to find him.”  
“I know. We will,” she smiled reassuringly, looking more confident than she felt. A baby in the wasteland in the care of someone with no money or resources, who was not his mother, would be lucky to make it.  
“I wish we’d sorted out the slaves better,” said Boone, following a similar line of thought.  
“Me too, I’m kicking myself for it,” admitted Veronica, shaking her head.  
They walked together in silence, each away in their own thoughts.


	26. Chapter 26

As they approached Novac, Manny saw them from his lookout spot in Dinky the Dinosaur and waved, grinning and whistling at the sight of Vienna with them. Boone went up alone to see him. 

Vienna went to find something to replace her Legion tunic, which, ending more than halfway up her thighs, was short to the point of bordering on indecency. It did show her legs to great advantage, and teamed with her Authority glasses actually looked pretty snazzy. However, snazz was not the look she wanted. She had to enter New Vegas as conqueror, not as showgirl. Worse, she had no underwear to wear beneath it, which meant if she went to pick anything up she had to crouch awkwardly or flash the world. Veronica’s smalls were too small. Vulpes couldn’t lend any as he had none himself. Boone’s shorts, she didn’t want to think about.

Her preferred gear was a Recon suit, and she would have to find a new one when she got the chance. In the meantime, one of the caravan traders standing around the old gas station had a set of reinforced leather armour in decent condition that fit her, so Vulpes gave her the caps for it. Least he could do, she said, since he’d deliberately ruined her old Recon suit.

There was no sign of Boone, so while they waited for him to come back, Veronica went to have a quick drink with Ada, Novac’s resident doctor. Ada was notoriously abrasive and Veronica was the only one who could stand her. 

Vienna obtained a replacement room key from Cliff Briscoe, the motel owner, then took Vulpes’ hand and led him to her motel room. She’d spent a few nights here on rare occasions, but never long. It wasn’t as dingy as she remembered, though the carpet was still covered in Boone’s old cigarette butts and empty beer and whisky bottles, dating from when they’d first met. They’d stayed up all night in Dinky, talking, then spent the following several days doing the same in her room. Boone had not wanted to be in his own room; indeed since that first day he’d never gone back into his old room again. 

“Wouldn’t mind being a fly on the wall in Dinky right now,” she said, dropping her stuff on the ground just inside the door. Vulpes didn’t reply, just closed the door behind them and took her in his arms from behind. Shivers ran up her skin as she felt his lips touch the nape of her neck.  
“You didn’t want me last night,” he said softly.  
“Yes I did. I’d just had too much to think.”  
“What specifically was bothering you?”  
“Just... everything.”  
“Tell me.”  
She turned her face slightly and he nuzzled it, his stubble roughing her cheek. “I don’t know how to assimilate you into my life. And I think you are...” she trailed off, closing her eyes and pressing her jawbone against the pleasing scratchiness.  
“...are what?” he murmured in her ear.  
Pause. “...are changing me.”  
Vulpes breathed a silent sigh of relief. He kissed her ear. “Is that bad? You are changing me too. I would not have let your friends live, a week ago.”  
“That’s one of the things that bothers me. You’ve been playing nice so far, but for how long?” She twisted her head round to look at him. “I’ve accepted the possibility that you might hurt or even kill me. That’s my choice. But in good conscience I can’t put my friends at the same risk.” 

Vulpes’ heart started to beat fast. This sounded like break-up talk. He couldn’t let it happen. He kept his face calm, while his brain raced.  
“It is one of the things I love about you, that you are so loyal to your friends. They mean a lot to you - and you mean everything to me. I would never hurt them as long as I am with you,” he said carefully, trying to place the threat in her mind without making it too obvious.

She didn’t reply and he turned her by the shoulders so she faced him, looking into her eyes. He held her head, fingers meshed in her hair, searching her expression for clues. She gave nothing away.  
“You are everything I have,” he whispered, his grey eyes looking like the sea before a storm. “And everything I want.”

Vienna looked at him steadily. “How do I know I can trust you?” She was pretty sure she knew, but she wanted to test her theory.  
Vulpes’ lips moved but no words emerged. He couldn’t say it. Vienna watched him for a while, and when he began to look stricken, she relented, and took him in a hug. 

His face hidden in her hair, Vulpes screwed his eyes shut tight. The experience of being in love was not as he’d expected it. His heart felt like a ball that she could bounce around, as high as she wanted, and then kick through a window. 

He had never felt so vulnerable; but he didn’t know what he could do to secure his tenure at her side. He knew how he had made himself indispensable to Caesar, but that was war. In war, Vulpes was at the top of the game. In love, he was lost in a forest in darkness, surrounded by the howls of predatory wolves.

He wanted to make love to her but he waited for her to take the lead. She didn’t, instead letting go of him and walked off towards the back of the room. There was a bathroom around the corner and he heard the sounds of running water. She reappeared with a wet face and hands, shaking the water off them. He followed her implicit suggestion and went to wash up. As he tossed water on his face and stared at himself in the remaining shards of mirror, he regained his sense of self. She wasn’t Caesar. She was just a girlfriend. He needed to man up and take control of the situation.

When he came back, she was lying naked on the bed on her belly, reading. He approached her, pulling his shirt off. Standing behind her, looking at her bare rump, he undid his buckle and separated his belt from his trousers. Wrapping it halfway around one fist he climbed onto the bed below her. She still read, ignoring him. _Crack!_ He whipped her once, letting just the last few inches of the belt connect with her left buttock. She gasped and tried to twist around. He held her down by the scruff of her neck and whipped her again, this time on her right buttock, the thick leather leaving bright red marks.  
“Are you mine?” he whispered.  
She didn’t speak, and he released more length of the belt and fiercely lashed her again, this time striking across both buttocks.  
“Are you mine?” he repeated through gritted teeth.  
Her hands were clenching the bedding with white knuckles. She was breathing hard but hadn’t lost her nerve. “You know I am,” she replied, almost serenely.

Vulpes unwound the belt and threw it aside, then unbuttoned his trousers, releasing his straining cock from imprisonment. It was hard as cast iron. He pushed her legs tightly together, and straddled her thighs. Aiming himself at the diamond-shaped crevice where they met, he pushed inside her, hissing at the tightness and heat. She started shaking. Her outer lips were dry but inside she was moist, and he eased in and out of her till the slickness was evenly spread, then increased in force. His forearms pinned her shoulders down. Like an animal, he bit the back of her neck and wouldn’t let go, growling in the back of his throat as he fucked her hard, then harder.

_One must be a lion to deter wolves._

Until she got to know Vulpes Inculta, Vienna had never thought of herself as a masochist; but when he touched her, she felt only pleasure, no matter what he did, even now as he was whipping her, biting her and holding her down as he fucked her. She didn’t need it; gentle touches were just as pleasing to her, but she had gone so deep into the rabbit hole that nothing mattered, as long as she was with him. 

A small part of her was still on the surface, and that part whispered that this was foolish, that he was manipulating her. She told that part that she was exhausted and if someone else wanted to take over for a while she wasn’t gonna argue. That part said: _He’s injuring you. Not just physically, but mentally, socially, professionally. His kiss is the kiss of death_.  
She told that part to get lost.

***

Emerging from the motel into the hot overhead sun, Vulpes and Vienna found the others sitting in the shade with Manny, drinking Nuka-Colas at the snack bar across the road from the old gas station, and being regaled with stories by No-Bark Noonan.

Just as they got close enough to hear what he was saying, No-Bark clocked them and went silent, then said in a loud stage whisper, “There’s the Tidy Man, you best be going before he sets to tidying YOU!”  
He hurried off towards his shack, holding his beard with both hands.

“What was that about?” asked Vienna, joining them. There were no free barstools, so she perched on the edge of the table, stealing a sip of Manny’s Nuka-Cola and blowing him a kiss for it. Vulpes leaned against a pole.  
“No idea, but he seems to be afraid of Mr Fox there,” replied Veronica. “Which to be honest I’m grateful for, as he was in the middle of a very detailed story about communist Wanamingos from space living under the earth and controlling all of us with their brainwaves, except him, because he’s protected by his beard.” She stroked an imaginary beard.  
“Yeah, what took you?” asked Boone, passing the warm remains of his drink to Vienna. He had heard enough from No-Bark to last a lifetime.  
“Uh, stuff we had to attend to,” said Vienna off-handedly, taking a big gulp of the drink.  
“Quick game of doctors and nurses?” asked Veronica in a faux-sultry voice, wiggling one eyebrow suggestively.  
Boone and Manny guffawed in the way that ex-soldiers seem to specialise in.  
Vienna smiled indulgently and said in a voice like honey, “I had a lil’ rash that Doctor Foxy had to take a look at.”  
“Did he have to put some cream on it?” asked Veronica mock-innocently.  
Vienna burst out laughing and Boone and Manny nearly choked. 

Vulpes gazed at them impassively. He had heard a lot of this type of bawdy talk from the men in the Legion, and had never found it interesting; it was the talk of juveniles. It was a little unnerving that Vienna would talk this way though. He would have to speak to her about decorum later.

Vulpes noticed that Manny kept eying him. He turned to face him and gave him his full attention. Unlike most recipients, Manny didn’t immediately fold. They stared at each other for a while, Manny’s expression accusatory, Vulpes’ blank, until Manny spoke.  
“How’s the ‘traveling salesman’ business?”  
Vulpes flickered a mirthless smile on then off. “Mixed results.”  
They resumed the staring match until Vienna broke the impasse by moving between them.  
“Fellas?”  
“This guy used to be a friend of mine, can you believe that?” Manny said bitterly.

Vulpes felt almost sorry. He had quite liked Manny, and would stop for a chat with him whenever he passed through Novac in the past, but of course he could not reveal his Legion status to him. He had considered it once, trying to recruit Manny, because he would have been a fine addition militarily and had most of the right attitudes, but when he had tested the waters by mentioning the Legion’s successes, Manny had exhibited such a visceral hatred that Vulpes had abandoned the idea and resigned himself to the fact that he would have to assassinate Manny when the Legion was ready to take Novac. Which, at the time, hadn’t seemed too far off. Ha.

“But you were just picking my brains, weren’t ya,” continued Manny, spitting on the ground.  
“We were friends,” said Vulpes evenly, “of sorts. I could hardly have been open about my allegiance though, could I. What would you have done?”  
“Blown your brains out first chance I got,” Manny said with gusto, making a firing gesture with his hand.  
“There it is, then.”  
“You still with them?”  
Vulpes shrugged and smiled.  
“Huh,” said Manny, giving him the sceptical eye.  
Vulpes spread his hands out in a gesture that could have been magnanimity, could have been bring-it-on.

“Ohhhh-kay,” said Vienna. “Manny, I’m sorry but we gotta hit the road, I wanna be in Vegas before midnight.”  
“Manny’s coming with us,” stated Boone. “If that’s cool with you,” he added, not really asking.  
“That is certainly cool with me, but I will not have anyone blowing out anyone else’s brains,” declared Vienna, mimicking Manny’s gun gesture but with both hands and air-shooting all of them, including herself. It looked so comical that everyone except Vulpes smiled and the mood relaxed a little. Vienna slid off the table and set off towards the road to start the trek north. Vulpes hefted his bag and walked with her, and the rest followed.


	27. Chapter 27

Vulpes was pleased to get back on the road, but they had only gotten as far as the Gibson Scrapyard before Vienna decided that it was way too hot to be marching in heavy leather armour, and popped in to Old Lady Gibson’s place to change back into her light tunic. She could change back again when the sun started to go down, she said. 

As they walked up the road towards the 188 Trading Post, Vulpes noticed she was limping slightly.  
He caught up to her and asked quietly if she was ok.  
“Yes, why?”  
“You are limping.”  
“Oh. Well not much. I’m ok, really. My poor whipped ass hurts more,” she grinned at him.  
He smiled and stroked his hand over the places where he had belted her. That was a mistake because feeling the curve of her ass made him begin to harden. He moved his hand up to her waist and tried to think of other things.  
“I hope to hell I’m not pregnant, with the insane amount of sex we’ve been having,” she murmured.  
“I’ll be disappointed if you are not,” said Vulpes.  
She playfully punched him, as though he wasn’t serious. He caught her fist and kissed it. Maybe this was the moment to discuss marriage. He was opening his mouth to broach the topic when Veronica, massively sugar-rushing on one too many Nuka-Colas, made a surprise leap onto Vienna’s back from behind.

“Piggy back!” Veronica yelled, cackling wildly.  
“Now... is not the time... Vero,” grunted Vienna, staggering and collapsing onto the dusty road, her bad leg unable to support the weight.  
Vulpes saw red. “Get off her,” he snarled, smacking Veronica in the side of the head with a vicious backhand and sending her flying.  
“No!” shouted Vienna, foreseeing disaster and frightened. She grabbed Vulpes by the ankle and pulled him towards her. “Stop it. Everyone. Please.”  
 _Click. Click_. Boone and Manny were aiming at Vulpes’ head.  
“NO!” screamed Vienna in a voice Veronica and Manny had not heard anything like before. Boone had, at Bitter Springs. It was the voice a grown woman uses when the one she loves most is executed before her eyes. It was a terrible sound and Boone froze.  
Manny waited for his signal.

Veronica got up and dusted herself off.  
“No harm done. Sorry, Vee,” said Veronica, reaching down to help Vienna up. She didn’t like Vulpes, but she also didn’t want to see Vienna’s heart be broken, there’d been enough of that going around. Veronica knew for herself what it was like to love someone that no one else approved of.

Vienna leant on Vulpes for support, gasping in pain. Her leg hurt like hell now.  
The soldiers kept aiming. Veronica walked over to them and pushed their barrels down.  
“No need to overreact,” she said calmly, though her heart was beating fast and her cheek was swelling where Vulpes had hit her.  
“You do something like that again and I will make paint outta you,” said Boone, staring at Vulpes.  
“There’s no point threatening him, Craig, he doesn’t respond,” said Vienna tiredly.  
“Not a threat. A promise.”  
Vulpes looked back at Boone expressionlessly. 

“Come on,” said Vienna, taking Vulpes’ hand and turning to limp up the road, pulling him behind her. He walked backwards, not taking his eyes off Boone.  
“Craig, would you mind walking in front of us please?” asked Vienna politely, wishing there was a wall handy that she could bang her head against.

***

They made it to the outskirts of New Vegas at around 10pm that night. In the dark, the rubble and destroyed buildings took on an unearthly quality. The group felt uneasy but they couldn’t move fast, as by then Vulpes was carrying Vienna over his shoulders, and she was no stick insect. 

Two Med-X injections had kept her going for a long time, but her damaged leg had not been ready for such a long hike; three hours short of Vegas she had stopped talking; two hours out she had been reduced to hopping, leaning on Vulpes for support, and by one hour away she stumbled and would have fallen if he had not caught her. 

She said she would just sit down for a while, and for them to go on ahead. Boone and Manny offered to carry her but Vienna refused, mumbling that she was fine and would see them at the ‘38. Vulpes, crouching next to her, said nothing, just lifted her up, hoisted her over his shoulders and walked on.

So much for entering Vegas as a conqueror, she thought, her face upside-down against Vulpes’ shoulderblade.

***

Approaching the east gate of Freeside, they could see smoke rising, flickering from unseen fires, and hear sporadic machinegun fire. Boone, Manny and Veronica went ahead to see what was going on.

Vulpes carefully put Vienna down leaning against some brickwork and sat next to her. His neck muscles ached but he sat still and resisted the urge to massage them out of spasm. 

They heard the distinctive _fwoomp_ sound of Boone’s customised sniper rifle, firing intermittently a hundred or so yards away on the other side of the barrier.

Veronica came back alone, saying cheerfully that there was a “little riot” going on in Freeside, and that Boone and Manny were trying to pick off the main protagonists. She headed back to help them. Vulpes stayed where he was.  
“Are you alright Kate?” he asked softly.  
“I’m ok,” Vienna replied. “Seth, thank you. I’m so sorry you had to do that. I hate being a burden.” She rubbed his shoulders, frowning in the dark.  
He took her hand from his shoulder and spliced his fingers amongst hers.  
“You are no burden,” he said.

The sounds of gunfire and shouting slowly diminished, then ceased. The other three did not return so Vulpes got up, looked around, then helped up Vienna, who had regained the energy to hop again. Cautiously, they entered the gate. 

Inside the riot was over, for the time being. A few fresh corpses lay here and there, and a several large trash fires tainted the air with acrid smoke. They walked past Mick & Ralph’s, which was locked up tight, and the Old Mormon Fort, and after listening and hearing nothing, opened the second gate, leading towards the Kings’ HQ. 

Outside the Kings’, Boone and Manny were talking with Pacer, the King’s deputy. Veronica was nowhere to be seen. Pacer was gesticulating and talking loudly about “these fuckin’ assholes from I-dunno-where.”  
“Keep walking,” muttered Vienna, not fond of Pacer. They passed by and headed for the gate to the Strip.  
“See you at home, ok?” Vienna called to Boone over her shoulder. He nodded once in acknowledgement.

Entering the Strip, things felt off there as well. The usual drunken NCR uniforms were gone, and instead there were a lot of miscellaneous strangers. Some of them looked straight at Vulpes as though trying to catch his eye. Others, when they caught sight of him, hurried away.  
Vulpes’ grip on Vienna’s waist tightened. “There are ex-legionaries here,” he murmured almost inaudibly in her ear, lengthening his stride and moving imperceptibly faster.

“Ave, Vulpes Inculta,” said a very quiet voice in the shadows to his left. Vulpes recognised the voice at once. It was Alerio, a Frumentarius who used to answer to him. One of his best men, assigned to watching the Strip and infiltrating the Three Families. Vulpes trusted him to some extent, because Alerio had never tried to assassinate him, despite Caesar having decreed that Alerio was next in line for the top job if Vulpes was incapacitated.  
“Ave, Alerio,” he responded equally quietly. He did not want anyone else to hear him speaking Latin.  
Alerio came close. “True to Caesar. I am surprised to see you here.” His eyes took in the injured Courier. “Your prisoner?” His face betrayed nothing.  
“In a manner of speaking. I will meet with you tomorrow, Alerio. Have you kept your room?” asked Vulpes, referring to a room at Vault 21 that Alerio used as his base.  
Alerio nodded.  
“At midday then. True to Caesar,” Vulpes said, and walked on.

“True to who?” whispered Vienna, when they were out of earshot.  
“It is just an expression.”  
“Really, I always had the impression you guys took it literally.”  
“It was literal, but now the meaning has changed.”  
“To..?” asked Vienna.  
“To _fuck Lanius_ ,” said Vulpes. Vienna’s eyes widened.

They ascended the slope to the Lucky 38’s doors, which opened as Vienna reached them. Vulpes had always wondered how she did that, and asked her.  
“Yes Man sees me coming,” said Vienna, “through the securitrons. He can see through them all.”  
Vulpes found that a disturbing idea.

Inside the Lucky 38, he looked around with a sense of wonder. He had always wanted to see inside it. It was a huge room, eerily lit with oriental style red lanterns. Vienna hopped to the elevator, pulling Vulpes along with her, and they floated up to the Presidential Suite.  
In the master bedroom, Vulpes slipped his pack off and rooted around in it till he found the box of Med-X. He scanned the instructions again, looking for guidance on how many could be used in one day.  
 _“Maximum five doses in a 24-hour period, more than that at own risk! Effects of overdose include numbness, asphyxia and sudden death.”_  
Good. She could have more, then. He took one out and deftly injected it into her leg, pressing the puncture with the bedsheet to stop it bleeding. 

“Oh, I cannot wait to take a bath,” Vienna said, looking at her legs. Dust had settled onto sweat and made a film of grime.  
Vulpes didn’t reply, he was feeling the pale pink sheet, running it through his fingers. It was so soft and light his calloused hands could barely feel it.  
“This is incredible, what is it?”  
“It’s silk satin. You never felt real silk before?”  
Vulpes shook his head, struck by the sensuousness of it. It felt the way her hair had after she’d washed it. 

He looked around, still fingering the silk. The opulence of the room stunned him. He’d been in the other casinos’ rooms but they had nothing on this. There were lush Persian rugs under his feet, and intricate chandeliers above his head that gave soft, warm light. The furniture was all made of rosewood, and immaculate. The bed was vast, and the cover on it was beautiful, some kind of thick, rich fabric. It was deep blue and black, with a pattern of roses.  
“This?” he asked, holding it up.  
“That’s velvet, also made of silk.” She smiled. “Stuffed with goose down.”  
“Goose down?”  
“Feathers.”  
“Feathers,” Vulpes repeated thoughtfully, stroking it. He would be sleeping in feathers tonight. How his fortunes had changed. He looked up at her and smiled, a fox in a henhouse.

***

A little later in the bathroom together, waiting for their baths to run, Vulpes noticed that the shelves were full of odd-shaped bottles and strange preparations. He inspected them more closely. A wind-out stick of oily paste with a sticker on it declaring it to be “Montezuma Red”. A jar of something called Venetian Cream Amoretta. An ornate bottle labelled Harmony Hair Beautifier – _“renders the hair soft, glossy and fluffy.”_

Vienna smiled, watching as her man picked up each object and studied it with fascination.  
“I bet you’ve never seen stuff like that before.”  
“No,” said Vulpes slowly, looking at a small bottle of pale yellow liquid intriguingly named _It’s You_.  
“They came with the suite. 350-year old cosmetics. Here,” said Vienna. She opened the bottle of _It’s You_ and squirted a fine spray onto Vulpes’ forearm. “Lovely isn’t it?”  
Vulpes, sniffing it, was lost for words. He had never smelt anything remotely like it.

Getting into the hot, deep bath, Vulpes lay back, closed his eyes and gave in to sensory pleasure. He had been missing out on a great deal of life, he realised. 

Vienna washed her hair with the Harmony Hair Beautifier. The Med-X had kicked in again, and she felt a lot better.

While they were in the bath, a _ding_ sounded and Boone, Manny, Veronica and another woman came up in the elevator and went into the kitchen, talking about the riots. There was a sound of beers being opened, and then something sizzling on the stove.

“Are you hungry?” asked Vienna from the bath next to his.  
“No.”

They got out, towelled themselves off and went back to the master bedroom, locking the door behind them. No sound permeated the walls. Vulpes saw a radio and switched it on, filling the room with the sultry instrumental _Slow Bounce._  
Vienna walked over to him, snuggled into his arms and held him tightly, swaying on her good leg. They swayed together, almost dancing. 

Vulpes closed his eyes and sniffed her hair deeply, trying to fill his lungs with her scent.  
“I love you... quite madly, Seth,” Vienna’s words were muffled against his neck.  
“I love you more,” he replied, kissing behind her ear. 

She pushed him backwards towards the bed, till he fell back onto it, pulling her on top of him. He wriggled backwards till his head was propped up on the pillows, but she stayed further down, and to his surprise and pleasure, kissed his feet. 

Vulpes lay back on the feather pillows, his eyes closed, inhaling her musky scent in the bed. He felt soft lips slowly kissing his feet. No one had touched his feet before, let alone kissed them. Unconsciously, he spoke in Latin.  
“Mmm?” murmured Vienna.  
“You honour me.”  
She smiled at that, then crawled up his naked body to kiss his stomach, then his lick his nipples, then gently kiss his collarbones.  
Chords of pleasure sang out in his nerves and Vulpes closed his eyes again, his lips parted, surrendering to her tender ministrations. She very softly kissed his lips. His heart swelled. She could have cut him with a knife at that moment and he would have taken it and liked it. Instead, he felt her move down again and lick the moisture from the very tip of his cock. Her tongue made a tiny circular motion, widening as her mouth slowly moved down around him, encompassing more and more. The tip of her tongue explored the corona, earning a suppressed moan from him. Her mouth moved further down, taking two thirds before she could fit no more in.

He wanted to come in her mouth but held back. All his sperm was now reserved for efforts towards making sons.

_Slow Bounce_ ended, and _Hallo Mister X_ began.

Her tongue licked the head of his cock again, then her mouth left and he felt her straddle his hips and slide down onto him in one long, delicious movement. She gasped softly as she took the last few inches, and leant forward and kissed his hungry mouth, her breasts swinging down to rest against his chest. Licking his tongue, she started undulating her hips against his, easing his bulk in and out of her. Each time she took him in she paused and squeezed him before withdrawing and quickly taking him back in again.

This felt incredible, but it must be hurting her injured leg, Vulpes thought. Gripping her tightly, he rolled her onto her back and took her missionary-style, looking into her eyes now. Her quick breaths made his heart quicken, and his pace followed suit.

Vienna looked into Vulpes’ stormy eyes, remembering the first time she had seen them in the safehouse, glowing brightly as he had knelt behind her. Then, she had not been attuned to their beauty, only their cruelty. Now she saw both, and loved both.

Vulpes lost his mind as he pumped sperm into her and held it there, still thrusting, till he came again a short while later.

He needn’t have worried. She was already with child. She had been impregnated within 24 hours of her arrival at the safehouse.


	28. Chapter 28

“Hey Inculta,” Veronica said inquisitorially the next morning, over breakfast. Everyone was sitting round the big kitchen table, eating toasted cornbread. Vienna and Vulpes joined them. Veronica was sitting next to a slender, auburn-haired woman Vulpes didn’t recognise.

Vulpes raised one eyebrow in response.  
“Was it true, what you said about Boone’s son?”  
Boone looked up sharply, his cigarette unlit.  
“Yes.”  
“So he’s really alive, but you genuinely don’t know where to look for him?”  
“I only know that he was born breathing and was still living a few weeks later, I heard no more. He was in the care of a very competent woman.”  
“Any ideas how to find him?”  
“Trace the woman who was caring for him. I will recognise her.”  
“When she hears you’re after her, she’ll probably shit herself,” said the unidentified woman, not looking at him.  
Vulpes gazed at her, wondering who she was. She clearly knew who he was.  
“Yeah, you must love the smell of shit, the amount of effort you’ve put in to making people shit themselves over the years,” Veronica needled.  
“Are all Brotherhood scribes as coarse as you?” returned Vulpes, continuing before she could answer, “I think your idea to check with the Followers is a reasonable first step towards locating her.”  
“Well that’s handy, I have one right here.”

So, that was the mystery woman. A Follower. Vulpes had thought he knew them all, at least to look at. He stared at the woman with open curiosity.  
“You don’t know the carer’s name?” the woman asked him, meeting his gaze.  
“I don’t know what she calls herself. We called her Amma, but that just meant wet nurse.”  
“Hm,” the woman said.  
“Who are you?” asked Vulpes bluntly, still staring at her.

She sipped her drink, then said, “I am Doctor Emily Ortal; and you are Vulpes _“I can smile, and murder while I smile”_ Inculta, the direct and indirect cause of a substantial proportion of my workload over the past four years.” She stared at him in challenge.  
“Your time is yours to waste,” Vulpes said nonchalantly. He took a bite of cornbread and gazed expressionlessly back at the doctor, chewing slowly. To his satisfaction, a small curl of irritation appeared on Ortal’s lip.

Vienna, observing all this, kept her face neutral but laughed inwardly. It secretly amused her, how adept Vulpes was at annoying people when he wanted to. Nevertheless, it was time to show some authority. She leant forward a little.   
“Vulpes is a guest in my house, Emily. As are you,” she said sweetly.  
“Why would anyone call themselves ‘Wool Piss’?” asked Manny.  
“And you, Manny,” said Vienna, her voice less sweet now.

Veronica broke the awkward silence that followed. “Hey Vee, it was a bit crowded here last night, and it’s gonna get even worse when Cass and Raul get home, you think it’d be ok if me and Em move up to the Penthouse Suite?”   
“No, that would not be ok. The mainframe is located up there, as perhaps Emily knows,” replied Vienna. It was Emily who had reprogrammed Yes Man for Benny, and Vienna, while not exactly mistrusting her, did not want her to have access to the mainframe unsupervised.  
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” grumped Veronica.   
“If it’s too crowded, Vulpes and I can move upstairs, and you can have our room,” offered Vienna.  
Veronica frowned. “Right, you trust him up there but not me.”  
Vienna shook her head. “Not at all, Vero, I trust you completely. I just don’t know Emily very well.”  
“It’s understandable,” said Emily evenly. “But I was thinking you might actually want help with programming.”

This was true, and the women began to discuss programming and mainframes, and kept it up till Boone and Manny’s eyes glazed over. Veronica and Emily knew a lot about it. Vienna had no background in it but she needed to learn, so she paid her full attention, ignoring the yawns of the men.  
“Shall we visit the Old Mormon Fort?” Vulpes suggested to Boone.  
Boone didn’t reply, just stood up, tucked his cigarettes in his pocket and jerked his thumb towards the door.  
“When you have a kid you’re gonna have to give up smoking!” called Emily after him as he walked out, Vulpes behind him.

Freeside was quiet, the fires were mostly out, and someone had dragged away the corpses of the night before. Vulpes asked what Pacer had said about the riots, and Boone filled him in. Random street brawls, happening every night, the perpetrators warring sides of locals and strangers. Lanius’ deserters, Vulpes suspected.

Inside the Fort, Boone went looking for Julie Farkas, the Followers’ administrator and chief doctor. There were a lot of refugees there, and Vulpes walked around, scanning their faces and looking in the tents to see if he could find Amma. Several of the ex-slaves recognised him and looked terrified, shrinking away from his gaze. Boone and Julie emerged from one of the towers and approached him.  
“What does she look like?” Julie asked Vulpes with no preamble.  
“Good morning to you too. She is aged around 35, has light brown skin and short black hair, and a scar on her shoulder.” Vulpes gestured with one finger a long diagonal scar.  
“Did you do that?”  
“I believe a deathclaw was involved,” said Vulpes. “I do not have an interest in wounding slaves. It reduces their productivity.”  
“Nice friend,” said Julie to Boone.  
Boone looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, well he’s helping me, Julie. You seen this woman or what?”  
“Yes. She’s in there.” Julie pointed at a tower in the north-eastern corner of the fort. “But I’m coming with you if you’re going to interrogate her.”  
Boone turned towards the tower and broke into a run, vanishing into the tower doorway. Julie and Vulpes followed at a walk. It was Vulpes that Julie wanted to keep an eye on.

The woman was on the top floor of the tower, sitting with another woman and four very little babies, none of whom could have been older than a couple of months.  
“None of these is your baby,” said Vulpes to Boone. “Yours is older.”  
Both women greeted Vulpes’ arrival with expressions of undisguised horror. The younger one whimpered, and clutched the other’s arm, her fingers digging in.   
Julie moved to the front. “It’s ok, please don’t panic. Mr Boone is just looking for his son, and this man is helping him,” she said in a soothing tone. The women stayed frozen, their eyes fixed on Vulpes’ feet. They could not meet his eye.  
“Amma,” said Vulpes, stepping around Julie.  
The older, scarred woman raised her eyes as far as his torso.  
“Amma,” he repeated softly. She raised her eyes to his face, slowly as though she hoped they would never arrive.  
“Yes, lord,” she whispered. She didn’t need to call him ‘lord’ – only Caesar was afforded that title. Just covering her bases, Vulpes supposed.  
“You don’t have to call him ‘lord’, you are free, he has no rights over you,” said Julie. “And, as soon as he has asked his question, he’s leaving. Permanently,” she said meaningfully, shooting Vulpes a disgusted look. Vulpes was unperturbed; he didn’t dislike Julie, but he couldn’t care less what she thought of him.

He asked Amma what she had done with the boy. Amma admitted that she had been in charge of five infants, but that that was too many for her to travel with, so when Fortification Hill was attacked by the Courier she had kept the youngest two and entrusted the older three to other freed slave women escaping. She described the woman who had taken Boone’s son. A young tribal woman, not more than 18. They had left the Fort in separate groups, and Amma did not know where the woman had gone. She had never arrived in Freeside.

They left, Boone looking despondent.  
“How in hell am I going to find him now?” he muttered hopelessly as they walked back through Freeside.  
“I suggest we follow the road towards Fortification Hill,” said Vulpes. “It is possible she stopped somewhere along the way.”  
“We?” Boone looked at him sideways.  
“I don’t mind assisting you in this matter.”  
“Do you know this girl she described?”  
Vulpes frowned. “I don’t think so.”  
“You think she was telling the truth?”  
Shrug. “She may have abandoned the child and been afraid to say so.”  
Boone winced.  
“But, I doubt it. If she was the kind of woman who could abandon babies, she probably would not have kept two,” Vulpes continued.  
“Let’s go today,” said Boone.

Vulpes thought about it. Since the walk from the safehouse, he had started to appreciate certain aspects of Boone. There was something to be said for a man whose principal qualities were loyalty, taciturnity and a fine aim.   
“Maybe,” he said.

Back in the 38, the women were still talking, now with the aid of some Fancy Lads Snack Cakes. Manny was in the bathroom, shaving. Boone went off to do some weapon maintenance, and get his gear ready for another search mission. He would go alone if he had to.

Vulpes joined the conversation, which killed it.  
Instead, Vienna asked him what success they’d had at the Followers.  
“Oh, poor Boone,” said Veronica, hearing the story. She got up and went to find him, taking a Snack Cake offering. Emily followed her.  
“What next?” Vienna said to no one in particular, gazing sightlessly at the table.  
“I have some ideas,” said Vulpes. “But first, we must discuss New Vegas. Have you thought about how you are going to control the Three Families?”  
Vienna gave him a cunning smile. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “I have a plan for that. I think you’re going to like it.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down.

She told him her plan, and he liked it.

***

Boone came back presently, and asked Vulpes in two words if he was ready to go.   
Vulpes replied, “I have a meeting at noon. I can accompany you after I return, if you are still here.”  
“How fast you gonna be?”  
“Wait a second,” Vienna broke in, waving a hand in the air. “Not that I’m objecting, but since when do you two go on Boy’s Own Adventures together?”   
Both men paused, waiting for the other to offer an explanation.   
Veronica and Emily could be heard giggling over the sound of the radio in another room.

“OK, fine, if it’s hush-hush...” Vienna said.  
Vulpes said, “It’s not ‘hush-hush’; it’s a trip along the road towards Fortification Hill, searching for the child. It will take around four and a half hours each way if we move fast, much longer if we look thoroughly. Which means,” he glanced at Boone, “it’s probably an overnight stay somewhere.”  
“I’m coming too, then,” decided Vienna.  
“No, you aren’t,” said Vulpes matter-of-factly. Before she could protest he poked her sore knee.  
“Ouch. Thanks for the reminder.”

Vulpes cocked his head on one side. “You will be alright for one night without me, won’t you?” he asked with a small smile.  
“Ha ha. It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s you two, going off on a trip together. What are the chances both of you will return?”  
“I give it 60:40,” Vulpes deadpanned.  
“Not funny.”  
Vulpes held his hand out to Boone. “I promise that I won’t kill you. Unless you try to kill me.”  
Boone shook it briefly. “Deal. Let’s go.”  
Vienna shook her head. “Not good enough. You have to swear not to kill him for anything, and you have to promise the same, Boone.”  
Boone sighed deeply.

Vienna stood up and put a hand on each man’s arm, looking back and forth between them. Her face was sombre. “I’m serious, fellas. If anything happens to either of you, I will never forgive you.”  
“Nothing’s going to happen, Kate,” said Vulpes softly. He was fairly sure Boone would have made his move by now, if he was going to; the sniper wasn’t a complicated man. He leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek, ostensibly to reassure her, really to observe Boone’s reaction. Boone looked away, but he didn’t flinch. Safe.

Veronica and Emily came in with flushed faces, panting slightly, and went to the fridge for Sunset Sarsaparillas.  
“Dancing to the radio, before you ask,” said Veronica.  
“Not asking,” Vienna smiled.

Vulpes said, “Doctor Ortal.”  
Emily eyed him warily.  
“Do you have any expertise in treating gunshot wounds?” he asked.  
“Yes, we see a lot of them, why?”   
Vulpes pointed at Vienna’s leg, the damaged part hidden under the hem of her pre-war spring dress. Emily went over to her and inspected the injury, crouching down to see it closely. She pressed her fingers into it in several places, and held Vienna’s calf to manipulate the joint.

“You use Hydra in this?” she asked eventually.  
“No,” said Vienna.  
“Yes,” said Vulpes. Vienna looked up in surprise. “Before you were conscious,” he murmured.  
“Hydra is shit, don’t ever use it,” said Emily, gently manipulating Vienna’s knee.  
Vulpes was stung. “It saved her knee.”  
“Only because you obviously didn’t get her proper medical attention in time.”  
“That was unavailable,” said Vulpes coldly, staring knives at the back of Emily’s head, wanting to dispatch her as he had Arcade.  
“Hydra is idiotic Legion-made shit, use it on a joint and it’ll fuck it up as much as it fixes,” said Emily, still examining the knee and oblivious to Vulpes’ death-glare. “You’ll have a permanent scar here, Vienna, and probably a permanent limp.”  
“Ok,” said Vienna.  
“This leg will never be as strong as it was before,” Emily said, glancing at Vulpes as though to rub it in.  
“Ok, thanks Emily. Is there anything I can do to improve it?”  
Emily showed her some exercises, and told her not to do any more 13-hour hikes.

Vienna took Vulpes to her room and kissed his face and hands until his fists uncurled and the thunderstorm left his eyes.  
“I didn’t mean to permanently damage you,” he said.  
“Forget it, Seth.” Vienna kissed each of his fingers. “I would have done the same thing. Except I wouldn’t have let me live.” He looked at her, and she grinned back.  
“Caesar came from the Followers of the Apocalypse, did you know that?” he said after a while.  
“Yeah,” Vienna said slowly, wondering what he was getting at.   
She waited but he said nothing else.


	29. Chapter 29

Vulpes had to meet Alerio at noon, but that was an hour away, so in the meantime he and Vienna strolled down to Mick & Ralph’s, with whom Vulpes was on good terms. Ralph greeted him as an old friend, and showed them what he had in apparel. Vienna felt happy; it was the first time someone had shown a good reaction to Vulpes.

Vulpes bought a ‘dapper gambler’ suit and another merc grunt outfit, trading a .44 magnum revolver that he had taken off a dead Viper. That gave him a lot of change so he bought Vienna the ‘well-heeled gambler’ dress and matching shoes that she was trying on. The dress was green embroidery over cream, and showed her figure well. 

Vienna went to have a look at the serious armour section and asked Vulpes if he would like a set of reinforced combat armour, but he declined.  
“I have a set at home from the Van Graff’s that would probably fit you,” she offered.   
Vulpes shook his head. “I prefer light armour.”  
“How about reinforced leather?”  
“Plain leather is fine.”  
“It would make me happy if you wore something a bit thicker than that,” she said.  
“I have lived this long, have I not?” said Vulpes; and that was the end of it.

Mick wandered in from the back of the store, greeting them both warmly.   
“Well well, look at you two shopping for each other. You an item now or what?” he grinned.  
“Something like that,” Vienna replied.  
“You look good together.”  
“You’ll make me blush,” said Vienna, smiling like a Cheshire cat.  
Mick pulled out something from under one of the counters. “Hey Vienna, you might like this.” It was a leopard print and black lace nightdress. Very short, and very slinky.  
“Ooh!” squealed Vienna, sounding for a moment like Veronica.  
“Ah, the Naughty Nightwear,” said Ralph. “We’ve been saving that for the right customer.”  
“What a coinkidink, I’m always right,” said Vienna, holding it up and seeing that it would be a fit. Just. “I’ll take it!”  
“Heh, you’re going to like seeing your lady in that, Fox,” Mick chuckled.  
Vulpes looked at the flimsy cloth with distaste. “I doubt it.”

Everyone looked at him in surprise.  
“What? How can you not like _this_?” asked Vienna, waving it at him as though he just needed a better look.  
Vulpes said nothing but a sneer remained on his face.  
“What?”  
“It looks like it came from the Gomorrah.”  
“Nope, this is antique but it’s brand new, never been worn, we still got the packaging somewhere,” said Ralph, rummaging around for it.  
“No Gomorrah stains on this, I guarantee,” affirmed Mick.  
“You really hate it?” Vienna asked, looking so crestfallen that Vulpes relented.  
“It’s ok,” he said, turning away to look at some other shelves.

Vienna chewed on her lip, looking again at the slippery material in her hands.  
“I’ll take it,” she said. She decided to try it on at home, and if Vulpes still hated it even with her in it, she would give it to Veronica. It was too big for Veronica’s petite frame but she could take it in at the seams and shorten the straps.

Taking their purchases, they walked home arm in arm, talking quietly about Vienna’s plan for asserting control over the Families. It would start with a summit meeting of all of them. They decided to set it for the night after next, to give Vulpes and Boone extra time to get home in case anything unexpected and time-consuming occurred on their baby-hunt.

“I cannot wait to meet Boone’s offspring,” Vienna smiled, picturing Boone trying to handle a squalling baby.  
“Don’t hold your breath. There’s a strong chance we will not find him, or we may find him dead,” warned Vulpes.  
Vienna gripped his arm harder. “You have to find him. If you don’t, Boone might go insane.”  
Vulpes raised an eyebrow. “I think that ship sailed a while ago,” he said.  
Vienna couldn’t restrain a guilty laugh. Vulpes was a knave but he had a way with words that really tickled. She said, “If you were a playing card, you’d be the Jack of Spades.”  
“You must be the Queen of Spades then.”  
“Hm, I’m not that evil. Yet. Wait, no, you’d be the Joker of course!”  
He smiled. “You would be the Ace of Hearts.”  
“Aw.”  
They stopped just inside the gates of the Strip and kissed, not even caring who saw them.

***

At seven minutes to noon, Vulpes went to Vault 21 to meet Alerio. 

Alerio met Vulpes in the foyer and invited him to his quarters. Vulpes noticed that it was a different room than last time, more spacious. Mentioning it, Alerio admitted that he had received an upgrade on account of having a little thing going with Sarah, the hotel manager.

Sipping glasses of purified water faintly flavoured with honey mesquite, they spoke in fluent Latin, talking about everything that had come to pass since the Legion’s disaster. It was just over a week since Caesar had died, yet so much had happened. 

Alerio described the riots in Freeside, and confirmed Vulpes’ suspicions that deserters from Lanius’ army were in Freeside and even in New Vegas itself.   
The NCR’s embassy was still open and functioning. Alerio said that there were a lot of NCR personnel still in Vegas and the surrounding areas; they just weren’t in uniforms anymore. It wasn’t yet clear if they were awol or demobbed or still in service.

Vulpes waited for Alerio to ask personal questions about the Courier, and soon enough he did, in a roundabout way.  
“How’s life in the Lucky 38?”  
“If you mean what am I doing there, the Courier is my concubine now,” said Vulpes carefully.  
“Or you are hers,” said Alerio with the faintest smile.  
“We are on an equal footing.”  
“How can that be? You are living in her tower, amongst her bodyguards. What power do you have?”  
“I am closer to her than any of her bodyguards. I have her ear. And if I want her dead...” Vulpes snapped his fingers.  
Alerio sipped his drink and went quiet for a while. “She killed Caesar, Vulpes,” he said finally.  
“He was dying anyway. And we both know Lanius is no replacement.”  
Alerio nodded slowly. “There is that.”

“I, and by extension you, have received a promotion of sorts,” said Vulpes, watching Alerio closely.  
He had trained Alerio too well; there was no discernible expression on the man’s face.  
“Do you want to continue to work for me?” asked Vulpes, tiring of waiting for Alerio to offer.  
Alerio thought about it. “Yes. If you can still pay me.”  
“Can you be loyal, in these new circumstances?”  
“To you, yes. I make no promises about the Courier.”  
“That will not present a problem. Her wishes and mine are unified.”

They saluted each other with their glasses, arranged to meet again in a couple of days’ time, and Vulpes left. He had liked Alerio’s company, and it had felt good speaking Latin again, but he had a date with a sniper.

***

Stepping out of the lift into the Presidential Suite, the first thing Vulpes saw was Boone, sitting on his pack with his gun slung on his back, ready to go.  
“I will be ready shortly,” Vulpes said, walking past him into the master bedroom. 

Vienna was lying on the bed, asleep, wearing the Naughty Nightwear. She had intended to surprise him with it, but was still exhausted after yesterday’s tremendous struggle. Despite her best efforts to keep them open, her eyelids had defied her. 

Closing the door behind him, Vulpes went over to her, watching her chest rise and fall as he quietly took off his dapper gambler suit. He had to admit it, the filmy material was quite fetching on her generous curves. The overall effect was more _Cat’s Paw_ than Gomorrah. He could see her nipples through the lace bustier. With one delicate finger he moved the hem up so he could view her sex. Hmm. Boone would have to wait.

He hung his suit in the closet, took off his shorts and moved back to the bed to kneel astride her. He lightly kissed her lips and she opened her eyes.  
“I have to go soon,” he murmured, kissing her neck and pulling the straps of her negligée down to caress her breasts.  
She put her arms around him and hugged him tightly. They both knew there was a chance he wouldn’t return.   
He lay down on top of her and she loved the weight of him, holding him tight with one arm, stroking the back of his head with the other. She wanted to ask him not to go, but she couldn’t let Boone down.

The _Harmony Hair Beautifier_ had made Vienna’s hair smell gorgeous. Vulpes buried his face in it, wishing he could keep the scent of her with him.

Kissing her mouth, his fingers slipped down to her sex and he penetrated and stroked her till he felt her clit begin to swell. He climbed down and put his tongue to it, relishing her moans as he licked her to orgasm. Before she had time to recover he turned her, pulled her onto her knees and fucked her fast from behind. Her hair fell aside and he could see the bite mark he had made on the back of her neck the day before. She had scared him, making him angry, and he had drawn blood from her in vengeance. Seeing his tooth marks on her flesh excited him and he forced himself in deeper and harder until he gasped and hot come pulsed into her.

He got up and dressed in leather armour, slinging his ripper on his hip, and picking up his pack. Vienna got dressed too, in her new green dress.  
“I’m sorry that had to be so fast,” he said, kissing her goodbye. He’d been in the room less than ten minutes.

Vienna gave him the Mauser to take along, plus an unnecessarily large amount of 9mm ammo from a massive chest at the bottom of her bed. Vulpes’ eyes widened when he saw inside it; she was stocking enough munitions for a small army.

She and Manny followed them out as far as the gates of the Strip.  
“Take good care of each other, please,” she said, hugging each of them. She had a bad feeling about this trip, the deep sense of foreboding you get when nothing has gone wrong yet, but everything is poised on a precipice.

“We’ll be back soon,” said Vulpes, pulling her close and giving her a one-armed hug. He turned and walked away after Boone, not looking back. Vienna stood next to Manny and watched him go till they went out of sight.  
“I hope Boone kills him,” said Manny. He caught Vienna’s expression. “Or... just... wounds him a bit,” he amended.


	30. Chapter 30

Out on the road, Vulpes and Boone fell into their habit of walking parallel to each other on opposite sides of the path. Neither man spoke a word for the first hour. 

The walk was relatively uneventful. They easily put down a few Fiends they ran into. Since the Courier had offed Motor-Runner, their main dealer, supply lines had been shaky at best and the Fiends were hungry, filthy and in the throes of severe chem withdrawal. They took anything they could get their hands on and would kill anyone just to see if they had any on them. Sometimes they would munch on the bodies too.

Killing the Fiends broke the tension between the two men, and as they resumed their journey, Boone walked in the middle of the road and started talking. It had felt good to renew his friendship with Manny, and he realised that since he had left the NCR, and particularly since his falling-out with Manny, he had badly missed the company of military men like himself. Arcade and Raul had not filled that role, nor had the others, although sometimes Veronica came close when she talked about repairing things.

Boone said, “Hey Fox.”  
“Mm.”   
“You called the Courier ‘Kate’ this morning.”  
“That is her name.”  
“Since when?”  
“Since I have known her, and probably longer.”  
Boone frowned. “I never heard her call herself that.”

Vulpes wondered whether to reveal the Courier’s history, or to keep it for himself until she chose to share it. He decided to let Boone find it out for himself.  
“She is an attractive woman, is she not?” he said, to change the subject, and to test Boone’s feelings.  
“I guess,” said Boone noncommittally.  
“I wonder why you didn’t take her for yourself,” Vulpes said casually, watching Boone’s expression.  
Boone started looking in his pockets for a cigarette, then for a lighter.  
“I’m a married man,” he said eventually.  
Vulpes was about to say something to that, then thought better of it.

Silence reigned once more, till they were passing the Gypsum Train Yard and saw a figure in the distance, meandering along the road, carrying... was that a _guitar_? Getting closer they saw a man with brown, sun-damaged skin and a drooping moustache. He hailed them as they drew near.

“Aloha, amigos,” he said in a pan-Pacific sort of way. He introduced himself as the Lonesome Drifter.  
“Good afternoon,” replied Vulpes, nodding politely. “Have you come far?”  
“Come from the lakeside. Watch out in there by the way,” he gestured towards the train yard. “Place is infested with deathclaws.”  
“Thank you. May I ask, have you seen any refugees from Fortification Hill around here? We are looking for a young tribal woman with a baby.”  
The Lonesome Drifter’s eyes narrowed. “What you planning to do with a young tribal woman with a baby?”  
“Nothing untoward, I assure you. This man is the baby’s father, and he would like his son returned. The tribal woman is merely a...” Vulpes searched for the word. “A nanny.”  
“Oh. Well, a boy needs a father, that’s true enough. I don’t know as I saw them specifically, but I did see a bunch of people coming across the lake on rafts a few days back. Landing in Calville Bay area. Don’t know where they headed after that.”  
Thanking him, they walked on.

They headed for Calville Bay, talking about which direction any refugees who did not go to Freeside might have taken. Bitter Springs was nearby. Or they might have followed the lakeshore west, towards Camp Golf. Any who had headed north and tried to cross the Boomers’ territory would probably be dried paste by now.

As they walked down the slope towards Calville Bay, Bitter Springs recreation area and campground was just to their left. They decided to split up to save time, Vulpes searching the campground, Boone the harbour.

The campground showed signs of recent temporary occupation. There were a lot of caravans around and Vulpes took a quick look inside each one. Finding no one, he turned towards the bay to join Boone, when he heard _fwoomp! fwoomp! fwoomp!_ It was Boone’s rifle, and he was firing madly.

Vulpes ran full tilt down the slope, pulling out his Mauser as he ran. The sound of firing ominously stopped. Boone came into view, crouching and swinging his rifle as a melee weapon, surrounded by giant cazadores. 

Vulpes shot as he ran, and drawing close, pulled out his ripper and performed a whirling dance akin to the one Vienna had seen when he executed the ghouls, spinning and jabbing. Cazador legs and antennae flew through the air. Sunset-coloured severed wings floated away on the breeze. 

Boone watched him through a haze, incapacitated by multiple lethal stings and no longer able to move his arms properly. He was dying, but he felt strangely tranquil. His only regret now was not finding his son. Was it the poison, or was Vulpes supernaturally fast? He moved in a blur, effortlessly cutting apart the giant insects. It occurred to Boone that Vulpes may not be human, but some kind of demon, borrowing human form. _That would explain a lot_ was his last thought as he fell unconscious.


	31. Chapter 31

When the last cazador was down, its halved carapace twitching on the ground, Vulpes knelt by Boone’s body, breathing hard.

He slipped his pack off and pulled out his only two vials of anti-venom, kept in an easy-to-access pocket for just such emergencies. Boone had received too many stings and two vials would probably not be enough to save him. Vulpes administered them carefully, using every drop, his eyes flickering around to watch for further attacks. That many cazadores meant there would be a nest nearby, and where there was one nest there were usually several. 

Boone did not show any reaction to the anti-venom. He appeared to have stopped breathing. Vulpes quickly searched Boone’s pack but found no more vials. He pumped on Boone’s chest to restart his heart, as he had done several times in the past for his men. He kept pumping, and breathing into Boone’s mouth, thinking as he did so of what Kate would say if he came back alone. A story about cazadores would not be very convincing. He would need to lug Boone’s stung body back to New Vegas to prove it. More carrying bodies... it seemed to be his lot in life, lately.

Thinking of that gave him an idea. Bitter Springs medical camp was near, just half an hour’s walk up the hill. Could he get Boone there in time if he ran? It was worth a try.

Listening to Boone’s chest he heard the heart had resumed beating, faintly and erratically. Boone was breathing again, very shallowly. Vulpes heaved him onto his shoulders and staggered up the road towards Bitter Springs medical camp. By Mars he was heavy. It was impossible to run, but he found a rhythm and managed a fast walk.

“Don’t die, idiot,” he puffed as he struggled through the campground, and up the hill. It occurred to him that there was actually an advantage to saving Boone’s life now; it would render plausible deniability if Boone should happen to die in the future.

When the camp came into view he started shouting for help. Two NCR grunts came running and took Boone off his shoulders, carrying the body further into the camp.  
“Cazadores,” Vulpes panted, so they would know what to do. He bent over, resting his hands on his knees, his lungs burning and his legs quivering, sweat trickling into his eyes. A 20-minute uphill dash with 100 kilos of dead weight on his back. What next.

Hands took hold of him and he was lifted up and carried into a tent further up the hill. He let it happen, and felt himself being laid down on a camp stretcher. Opening his eyes he saw Boone on the stretcher next to him. A man in a smock with a lot of old bloodstains on it was holding Boone’s wrist and counting.

Vulpes closed his eyes and concentrated on calming his own pulse. When he felt it get somewhere near normal, he sat up. Boone was breathing better now, and had opened his eyes.

“Down at Calville Bay, were you?” asked the doctor.  
“Mm,” responded Vulpes, instinctively reticent around NCR personnel.  
“Whatcha doing down there?”  
Vulpes decided to be open, in case the doctor knew anything about the missing child. “Looking for someone. A missing baby of around six months of age, possibly being cared for by a young tribal woman. Have you seen them?”  
“And who are you?” asked the doctor abruptly.  
“I am a friend of this man, and he is the baby’s father. He is Craig Boone of the NCR.”  
“Yeah, I know him,” said the doctor, as though it brought him no pleasure. “Thought twice about saving his life, to be honest.”  
Vulpes smiled faintly, not saying what he was thinking. _You and me both._

“Have you seen the child?” he asked again.  
“Can you prove he’s yours?” the doctor said to Boone, ignoring Vulpes.  
Boone became alert. “He’s here?”  
“I’ve got several infants in my care. But I’m not gonna just hand them out to anyone who asks.”  
Boone stumbled over his words. “He’s mine. My wife. She was kidnapped by Legion slavers and the baby was born at the Fort. You know the Fort’s finished, now, right?”  
“Yes, quite a few ex-slaves came to me from there over the last week.”  
“I killed Caesar,” said Boone, smiling woozily. Vulpes kept his face impassive.  
“You don’t say. I guess your talent for killing finally became useful.”  
Boone’s smile faded. “Give me my son,” he said in a low voice.  
“Can you prove he’s yours?”  
“He is 6 months old and must look like a combination of Boone and his wife. So, Hispanic,” said Vulpes, shrugging. “Ish. And he was in the temporary care of an 18-year old tribal woman, who was given him by a woman called Amma.”  
“How do you know that?” The doctor turned on Vulpes. Vulpes exchanged a glance with Boone. They were both starting to really dislike this man.  
“I was a slave there myself,” said Vulpes. It wasn’t a complete lie.  
The doctor looked him up and down. “No you weren’t,” he said flatly. “The slaves who came from there were all emaciated, and had shaved heads. You’re someone else.”  
“I escaped a while ago,” said Vulpes, thinking about killing the doctor, grabbing the kid and running for it. He would kill all the NCR personnel in the camp if he needed to.  
“Hey, Gilles!” yelled the doctor. 

Half a minute later an armed female officer entered the tent, saw the doctor lying prone on the ground, and was immediately knocked unconscious herself with a heavy book called _Tiny, Tiny Babies: All you need to know about paediatric medicine_. Wordlessly, Boone and Vulpes tied them up and gagged them, tucked them out of sight of the tent entrance, and strolled out into the evening air. They headed first for where Vulpes had dropped their packs and weapons, then, armed, wandered nonchalantly around glancing into tents until a baby’s cry drew them both to the tent where the little ones slept.

There were six children in there, and one woman. Vulpes greeted the woman pleasantly.  
“Doctors,” he said by way of introduction.  
“Which one?” muttered Boone. Vulpes crouched and looked them over. Only four of the six were within the right age group, and of those, two looked nothing like Boone or Carla. That left two. One was a girl.  
“This child needs special treatment in New Vegas. Thank you for looking after him,” Vulpes said formally, picking up the child and bowing to the woman. She stared at him as they backed out of the tent. Vulpes grabbed a blanket as he left, smiling and nodding at the woman.

Once outside he carefully wrapped the sleeping child in the blanket and slung the bundle on his back as though it was just bedding. They walked calmly out of the camp, taking a long-cut across the hill to avoid the guards at the front entrance. Once out of sight, Vulpes put the child under one arm and broke into a fast run, Boone right behind him. 

Here I am, carrying another body, thought Vulpes. At least this one was only about seven kilos. He suddenly remembered swatting the doctor with the textbook, and laughed as he ran. 

They ran till their legs gave out, about an hour later. The child slept throughout the entire thing.  
“Is he ok?” asked Boone, when they finally stopped for a rest and sat down, leaning against some rocks.

Vulpes held the baby up and looked at him. The wee boy opened his eyes and looked back. He smiled at Vulpes, and his little round face glowed with such innocence and joy Vulpes couldn’t help smiling back. The boy held his tiny arms out, as though for a hug, and Vulpes held him to his chest and hugged him gently.  
“Hey give him here,” said Boone, becoming a little jealous. He had felt shy of the child at first, and been happy to let Vulpes take him, but now, seeing that open toothless smile, his heart turned to jelly and he wanted the hugs for himself.

Vulpes passed him over and Boone took him gingerly in his hands.  
“He feels so delicate,” he said in wonder.  
“Yet heavy,” said Vulpes, rubbing his bicep.  
“Hey Fox, listen, thanks for that, man. I mean it,” said Boone. “And the thing before.”  
He glanced at Vulpes, nodded, and Vulpes shrugged.

The baby put his hand out and pulled Boone’s nose, making himself chuckle in the cutest little helium voice either of them had ever heard.  
“Cute kid,” said Vulpes, fascinated. He put out a finger and the baby held it and tried to bend it backwards, chuckling again. “And strong.”  
“I wonder what he eats,” mused Boone. “We should have brought something.”  
“I think they drink milk. We’d better get back to New Vegas tonight,” said Vulpes, getting up. “Come on.”


	32. Chapter 32

They walked an hour without talking, avoiding the main road in case of radioed patrols. A glowing pink and gold sunset was mutating the western sky. Boone felt almost deliriously happy. He couldn’t stop gazing at his baby’s face. The little boy had his fair hair but Carla’s beautiful dark eyes.

“Damn it felt good, sapping Gilles with that book,” he smiled happily.  
“You have a grudge against her?”  
Boone told the story of Bitter Springs. Once he started telling it, it gushed out, and he found himself giving much more detail than he had told anyone else. Gilles had been his commanding officer, and had given the orders to commit the massacre. He had never forgiven her for giving and reiterating the order, or himself for following it.

Vulpes already knew the basics of the story, but he hadn’t known the depth of Boone’s feeling about it. He listened with interest, speaking only to murmur “Mm” now and again.

“Everyone tells me that it wasn’t my fault, I was just following orders - but then they say they wouldn’t have followed that order if they were there,” said Boone.  
“Hm,” said Vulpes.  
“What would you have done if you were there?”  
“I would have done what you did, only not felt guilty about it,” said Vulpes. “But I assume you mean what should you have done, you being you.”  
Boone waited. Vulpes was silent for a long time. They sky grew darker, and the lights of New Vegas in the distance began to glow, twinkling in the dusty air.

Vulpes had experience of not following orders. It had once nearly cost him his life, when he broke an order and launched a breakaway attack that won a battle, but infuriated his commanding centurion. He was nearly crucified for insubordination, until Caesar himself stepped in to protect him – and then actually promoted him.

“Not every order has to be followed, but not everyone is capable of breaking orders under pressure,” Vulpes eventually said. “I wouldn’t listen to what people idly say about it, as most people cannot mentally place themselves in that situation.” He paused. “Your friend Manny is both Khan and NCR; his opinion strikes me as the most relevant. What does he say?” Vulpes already knew the answer, having heard Manny talk about it in Novac once, many months ago.

“He forgave me,” Boone admitted.   
“If I were you I would accept that, and be done with it.”  
“I guess so. Maybe. Yeah.” Boone nodded slowly.

They walked in silence for a while. The baby made little cooing sounds, and Boone kissed his forehead.

“Do you think you would be able to do it differently, now?” Vulpes asked.  
“Fuck yes. I would tell Gilles where she could shove it.”  
“Your cohort would still carry out the killings though.”  
“I’d stop them.”  
“And then be court-martialled, presumably.”  
“Worth it.”

Vulpes had respect for men who were prepared to take the punishment for their actions. Maybe it was the presence of a very sweet baby making him soft, but he felt kindly towards Boone. He said the gentlest thing he could think of. “To learn from our mistakes is all any of us can hope to do.”

Boone thought about that, and nodded. He felt a lot better, about Bitter Springs, about Carla, Manny, everything. He was starting to see why the Courier liked Vulpes. The man didn’t say much, but what he said was worth listening to.

Boone said, “Sometimes I wish I could be like you, not giving a fuck about anything.”  
“You have me wrong. I think a lot about everything I do.”  
“You regret any of the nasty shit you’ve done?”  
“Yes. Not the things you are thinking of, though,” Vulpes gave a brittle smile.  
“Not Nipton or Searchlight then.”  
“No.”  
“Or enslaving my wife.”  
Vulpes shrugged. “Her mistake was marrying you.” He gave Boone a vulpine grin.  
“Thanks a lot,” said Boone. Then, surprising himself, he laughed. He laughed till he cried, and the baby laughed with him.   
They walked on peacefully, almost like friends.

***

After another hour the baby got hungry and started to cry. At first the problem was solved by Boone handing him over to Vulpes, and the little one went quiet, liking Vulpes’ smell and the smoother motion of his walk. But after half an hour or so he started up again, now making a loud, incessant braying sound. No amount of comforting would quieten him; he was too hungry. It was a harrowing sound, and by the time the men arrived in Freeside their nerves were shredded. 

There were street brawls going on in Freeside, but Boone and Vulpes walked right past them. Two cold-eyed men who looked like high-priced mercenaries, grimly carrying a screaming baby. No one wanted a piece of that action.

It was very late, and the Followers’ compound was locked up tight. Vulpes shinnied over the wall and unlocked the gate for Boone. They headed straight to the tower where Amma was.

The baby was crying like a fire alarm and Amma had awoken before they reached her. As soon as she saw the baby’s identity a huge smile lit up her face. She took him and offered a breast, which the little boy lunged at like a starving vampire. He drank for 15 minutes, making gulping noises, then she offered him the other side and he drained that too. She stroked his head and sang a soft lullaby as he drank.

Vulpes asked if this was the right baby; she confirmed that it was. Boone asked for baby care advice, and if he could come back and see her the next day to talk more about it. She agreed, shooting a nervous look at Vulpes.  
“Without him,” said Boone gruffly. That earned him a grateful expression.

“What the fuck did you do, to scare the hell outta that woman?” he asked Vulpes as they walked back to the Lucky 38.  
“Nothing,” replied Vulpes. “It’s just my reputation.”  
“Why in hell would you want the reputation of being a complete prick?”  
Vulpes scratched his chin. He was starting to get a beard. “It had its uses,” he said mildly.

***

At the 38, Cass and Raul were back. They were asleep together in one of the spare beds. Manny was in the other. Veronica and Emily were in Vienna’s bed. Vulpes found a note on the master bedroom door, saying _“S. Come up to Penthouse. K._ ” He didn’t go up immediately however, first wanting to wash the dust, sweat and dried baby drool off his body.

There was no bed spare for Boone and his baby, so Boone made a makeshift cot out of an ammo crate and a pile of soft blankets for the baby and dragged it next to a sofa, on which he lay down. The baby didn’t want to sleep at first, so Boone lay on his back and let the baby lie on his chest. Soon the soothing rhythm of Boone’s breathing and heartbeat calmed the baby down. When he fell asleep Boone gently laid him in his cot. From his position on the sofa, he could reach down and put his hand on the baby’s side. He fell asleep that way, and slept deeper than he had in more than a year. Until the baby woke him five hours later, hungry again.

After a quick bath, Vulpes headed up in the elevator, looking forward to lying down. He was dog-tired. On the Penthouse floor there was a note with just an arrow pointing to the right. He followed it around a wide curved hallway, and next to some curtains he found another note with a drawing of cross-hairs on it. Behind the curtains was a bedroom of sorts, or at least a bed in a huge room, enclosed by gigantic windows. The bed itself was surrounded by bookshelves and odd statues of robots. The shelves held thirty or forty pre-war books. In the bed was Vienna, lying on her side, asleep.

He stripped naked and crawled in next to her. She felt warm and soft. He snuggled close, nesting his face between her breasts.   
“D’ya get the kid?” she mumbled, her voice blurry with sleep.  
“Mm-hm.”  
She nuzzled his hair, kissed the top of his head and went back to sleep.  
The room was perfectly quiet apart from a faint electronic humming sound. Vulpes went to sleep and didn’t wake for nine hours.


	33. Chapter 33

When he awoke late the next morning, he found Vienna lying next to him, reading. He leaned over and kissed her.  
“What does _tanto plus in illis proficit vitiorum ignoratio, quam in his cognitio virtutis_ mean?” she asked.  
“ _Those who know virtue find it less profitable than those who are ignorant of vice_ ,” Vulpes translated loosely. “What are you reading?”  
She showed him. It was slim volume entitled “A Dissertation on the Origin and Foundation of the Inequality of Man”, by J. Rousseau. “It’s really interesting, but I’m not sure I understand it too well,” she said. “Will you read it after me and give me your opinion?”  
“Certainly,” Vulpes replied. He was looking forward to reading all of the books on these shelves. Their erstwhile owner, Mr House, had been a man of discerning intellect.

“I have a question for you,” he said, tracing her facial features with his finger.  
“Mm?” She was still reading.  
“Will you be my wife?” His grey eyes rested on hers, outwardly serene. Inside, his heart was racing.

That broke her concentration. She looked at him in astonishment, letting the book fall into the bed. He waited, trying to appear relaxed. It wasn’t easy.  
“I would never have thought... that you went in for that sort of thing,” she said.  
Vulpes remained composed. “Yes or no?” He asked, relieved to hear that he sounded as though either was fine.

Vienna knew him better than that; she could guess the magnitude of his emotions by the fact that his eye contact was much less intense than usual. The only time Vulpes looked this languid was when he was about to explode. Well, no need to torture him. “Yes,” she said simply.

***

After some fun in bed, they went down to join the others for a midday breakfast and were deafened by the baby as soon as the lift doors opened.  
“Thank fuck you’re here!” yelled a frantic Boone, shoving the roaring baby into Vulpes’ arms. Vulpes held the boy up and looked calmly into his angry eyes. He stopped yelling and looked back, hiccuping, then broke into a big gummy smile.  
“Oh, sweet relief,” said Boone, falling to his knees, holding his hands over his face. “Goddamned Yes Man wouldn’t let me come up to the Penthouse, or even call you,” he said through his hands.  
“Yes Man, Boone and his baby are allowed access to the Penthouse Floor from now on,” said Vienna to the air.  
“Sure thing!” replied a disembodied voice.

Vulpes looked around for the source of the voice. “Have you taken him to Amma to be fed?” he asked Boone absently.  
“Yeah I’ve taken him to her three times this morning. I think she’s getting sick of me,” said Boone miserably.  
“Does he consume anything other than breastmilk?”  
“She said he also likes porridge, and anything mashed. But he’s fed to the gills, that’s not the problem.”

They all looked at the baby, who perversely didn’t seem to have any problem at all now; he was comfortably snuggled in Vulpes’ arms, his eyelids drooping. As they watched, he fell asleep.  
“You and him have some kinda... affinity,” said Boone.

In fact the baby was just tired and responding positively to Vulpes’ slow heartbeat and calm demeanour.  
They moved into the kitchen and Vienna made breakfast, which Vulpes ate with one hand, holding the peacefully sleeping baby with the other.

“Can Yes Man see and hear everything that happens in this building?” he asked Vienna.  
“Hear, yes, but he only sees if there’s a securitron to see through. And he only responds if I address him directly.”  
That was not especially comforting to Vulpes.  
“So yes, he hears us in bed if that’s what you’re wondering,” Vienna grinned.  
“You don’t find that invasive?”  
She shrugged. “Nah, not really. He’s artificial intelligence. He only gives a shit about stuff he’s programmed to give a shit about. Hearing us in bed is probably about as interesting to him as hearing Boone’s baby cry.” She looked at Boone. “What are you going to call him, by the way?”   
“I don’t know yet... I was thinking maybe Carl.”  
“Urgh. Remember that awful creep called Carl, the Legion guy who was up at Red Rocks?”  
“Yeah.” Boone looked less than pleased to be reminded.  
Vulpes pricked up his ears. Karl was one of his Frumentarii.  
“Ha ha, we got him good though,” Vienna laughed.  
Vulpes sighed.

Manny came in and sat down, helping himself to toast. He saw the baby in Vulpes’ arm and paused for a moment, then raised his eyebrows and went back to his toast.  
“Hey Manny. What shall we name this kid,” asked Vienna. “Boone votes for Carl but I veto it.”  
“You don’t have veto rights,” muttered Boone.  
“How about Gaius Marius,” suggested Vulpes.  
No one thought that was funny.  
“Ha agat Harligo,” said Manny through a mouthful of toast.  
“What?”  
He swallowed. “How about Carlito?”  
“Who’s Carlito?” asked Raul, coming in. He saw Vulpes and stopped, looking him up and down. Vulpes gave him a grin as big and as fake as Dinky the Dinosaur. Raul stepped back like he’d been hit. 

Eventually, though Boone kept insisting that no one else’s views counted, they took a vote and Carlito passed by three votes to two. Boone abstained as a point of order and Vulpes stuck to Gaius Marius. 

Despite his resistance to the idea of them helping name him, Boone liked the name Carlito. Especially the way Raul and Manny pronounced it, it sounded really cute. The name stuck.


	34. Chapter 34

The rest of the day was spent renewing friendships, eating, drinking and resting.

Cass and Veronica came back in the early afternoon, laden with food supplies, and started preparing a grand celebratory dinner. 

The strangeness of having Vulpes as part of their group was considerably mitigated by Boone’s apparent tolerance of him. 

Boone and Vulpes spent much of the day playing with Carlito, who was a very lively little baby. When Carlito napped, Vulpes read, but Boone just gazed adoringly at his son. He didn’t pinch himself, not because he didn’t think that this might just be a beautiful dream, but because if it was, he never wanted to wake up.

The baby was dressed in a little tunic that was very worn and somewhat dirty, so Vulpes made a visit to Mick and Ralph’s and came back with a set of baby clothes. Watching them try to fit the little clothes onto the squirming, chuckling baby was hilarious entertainment for the others. At one point Boone nearly got a tooth kicked out by a tiny foot. Then when they finally got him buttoned up, there was an extra buttonhole at the top and they had to undo and rebutton the whole thing. Veronica almost wet herself laughing. Raul came dangerously close to coughing up a lung.

Later in the afternoon Vienna went to Freeside to see the King. She had a special favour to ask.

***

The dinner was a big success and afterwards, as they sat around the table loosening their belts and raising glasses of scotch to each other, Vienna stood up and made a speech.  
“Now that we’re all together, I have a few things I’d like to say. First of all, welcome home Cass and Raul,” she raised her glass to them, and the others assented.  
“Secondly, welcome to our new additions to the gang. Manny,” she saluted him, “and beautiful Carlito.” Everyone cheered at that.  
“Thirdly, to absent friends. Arcade Gannon was a very good friend to us, a good doctor and a good man. He fell pursuing a noble cause, and we will always remember him.” This made everyone look at Vulpes, who looked back steadily, maintaining his usual neutral expression. “To absent friends,” Vienna repeated, raising her glass. Everyone drank.

“The noble cause was trying to blast your new fella, you know that doncha Vee?” said Cass.  
“Yes.”  
“You know it was him who nixed Arcade, right?”  
“Of course.”  
“Jus’ checkin’.” Cass winked at Vulpes over her glass, and downed the rest of her scotch.  
“He killed our friend and we killed his. It’s all out in the open and as far as I’m concerned, it’s over,” said Vienna.  
“Gotcha,” said Cass, pouring herself a refill.

Vienna continued. “Next point on the agenda, me. Most of you know that Vienna is not my real name, I just picked it out of a hat after I was shot in the head and couldn’t remember who I was. Well, I’ve since found out that my real name is Kate Quantrill. So from now on, I would like to be known as Kate. If you find that too weird you can still call me Vee, but not Vienna, please.”  
“Actually I think Kate suits you better. Vienna is a kind of a fancy name, and you’re not that fancy,” said Cass, to general amusement.  
“Oh Cass. You always know just what to say,” laughed Vienna.  
“It’s one of my many talents,” said Cass, looking modest.

Vienna went serious again. “Ok that’s my name, now on to this man.” She put her hand on Vulpes’ shoulder. “Vulpes Inculta was his Legion name, but he is no longer a part of Legion. Like me, he wishes to resume using his real name, which is Seth Dove. I would be most obliged if you could all call him Seth from now on.”  
“Can we still call him Fox?” asked Boone.  
Vienna looked at Vulpes, who nodded.  
“Fox is also ok. Next point on the agenda,” she went on, “Seth and I will be marrying each other this Sunday, at the King’s. You are all invited. Next point, the ‘Revolting’ Cocktail Lounge. I propose to open it one day a week as a sort of old-style gentleman’s club, open to members only, members being respectable citizens of Freeside like the Followers, Kings, Mick and Ralph, the Gun Runners and so on. To facilitate understanding between us. Your thoughts?”

No one had any thoughts as they were all too stunned by the wedding announcement to think.  
“Will you call it the Revolting Cocktail Lounge?” asked Vulpes.  
“Yup. Until someone has a better idea.”  
Silence reigned again.

“Congratulations, boss,” said Raul finally.  
“Thank you. Next point, I propose to open the casino floor to the public one day a week, to generate some extra revenue. Yes?”  
“That’s actually a damned good idea,” said Cass, her business instincts kicking in.  
“You can run it, if you want, Cass.”  
“Love to!” said Cass. Bottle caps flashed in her eyes.  
“Last point, and an important one. Please everyone, pay attention. I’ve come up with a plan to gain control of the Three Families.” 

Then, Vienna announced the Lottery.

The Courier’s companions were all silent, their faces showing increasing disbelief, as she detailed the plan.

“Et voilà!” she concluded, snapping her fingers.  
“Vee, you can’t do that. That’s horrible,” said Veronica.  
“Horribly effective.” Vienna gave an evil grin.

Veronica frowned and flicked a nod at Vulpes. “Was this his idea? Cos’ it sounds a lot like what happened in Nipton.”  
“It was all mine, and I think it’s a killer idea,” Vienna replied, sitting down.  
“Killer, alright,” said Cass. “Seriously, you’re going to kill off the Families?”  
“Not all, just one. The loser. The runner-up merely gets banished from the city,” Vienna smiled. “Permanently.”

“And the winner gets all three casinos... how does this benefit you, exactly?” asked Veronica.  
“It means I only have to deal with one bunch of assholes. And unlike our dear friend here, who ran his lottery quite fairly, mine is going to be rigged. The Chairmen will win, purely because Swank is a straight-up guy.” She hovered her hand over the table. “Comparatively. The cannibal White Gloves will be exiled, and the scumsucking Omerta clan will be put down.” She smiled again but there was no humour in it. “Six feet down.”

Vienna leaned back in her chair, sipped her drink and looked everyone in the eye. “What’s not to like?”

“I don’t mean to be pedantic but... did you just call Vulpes Inculta’s lottery in Nipton ‘fair’?” asked Veronica.  
“In a manner of speaking,” said Vienna. It was a useful phrase she had picked up from Vulpes himself; able to answer a request for clarification without clarifying anything.

“I like the plan except for one thing,” said Raul, holding up a gnarled finger. “The Omertas may be a gang of murderous shits, but they run a damn fine casino.”  
“I’m sure the Chairmen will keep all the casinos running pretty much as they are,” Vienna responded.  
“How are you going to get the Families to go in for this ‘lottery’?” asked Cass.  
“Because they are all greedy bastards and the thought of controlling all the casinos will blow their minds and make them unable to imagine not winning.”  
“Are they going to be allowed to abstain? If, for some reason, their minds aren’t completely blown?”  
“Hmm. No.”

“How are we going to kill all of the Omertas before they kill any of us? They’re pretty well armed, and they’re suspicious by nature,” said Manny.

Vienna leaned forward and explained in finer detail. “They are coming here to a summit meeting over dinner, tomorrow night. I have invited the top members of each clan, and they’re allowed to bring bodyguards if they wish, to a total of five persons per clan in the room. Seth and I will be the hosts. We’ll eat dinner, I’ll tell them about opening the 38 once a week et cetera, and after dinner I will announce the lottery.”

She used her cutlery to make a diagram. “The dining room will be the one on the Penthouse floor. You, if you wish to be involved, will be stationed just above us on the mezzanine floor, hidden but with a good view of the Omertas’ end of the table. When I give the signal, the five Omertas will be simultaneously shot dead. I only need a couple of people to help, because I can shoot at least two, probably four of them myself.”

Vienna looked carefully at each of the friends in turn. “If you don’t want to be involved, that’s ok, you can arrange to be somewhere else when it all goes down. I don’t actually need any of you to help, because Seth and I can pull it off ourselves in a pinch, but it would mean a lot to me to have your support.”

Sitting next to her, Vulpes felt a rush of pride. Kate was a lioness. He had chosen well.

“When the Gloves and the Chairmen see the Omerta top brass go from alive to dead in the space of a single second, they are gonna be scared shitless of me. And that’s exactly what I want. So.” Vienna leaned back again, and this time her smile was warm. “Who’s with me?”

Vulpes didn’t say anything; he didn’t need to. His support was already pledged.

“I am,” said Boone.  
“Me too,” said Manny, nodding. “Sounds fun.”  
“Count me in, boss. Plan sounds stupid as hell to me, but I don’t wanna miss the fireworks,” Raul said.  
“Ok, thanks boys. That’s all I need,” said Vienna.

“Vee, I think you should re-think this. It’s really, really nasty, and it might give you a severely bad reputation in the Mojave,” said Veronica gravely.  
“Nastier than cannibalism?”  
“No.”  
“Nastier than drugging, raping and butchering women and making snuff films out of it?”  
Veronica sighed. “No.”  
“I’m in. Let’s do it,” said Cass, slugging back another shot of whiskey. She’d been with Vienna when they’d found the blood-streaked snuff-movie-making room in the Omertas’ basement, with its manacles and dildos, and the memory still gave her nightmares.

Vienna kept looking at Veronica. She wanted everyone to be in agreement. “Vero, I understand what you mean about reputation, but just because these guys have a respectable veneer, doesn’t make them any better than Cook-Cook or Motor Runner.”  
“I suppose not,” agreed Veronica.  
“And you loved punching those guys to death.”  
“Yes I did.”  
“So..?”  
“I’m in,” Veronica decided.

They drank a toast, each thinking their own thoughts about what they were toasting.


	35. Chapter 35

The group moved to the ‘billiards room’, as they were in the habit of calling it, and the evening turned into a full-blown party.  
“Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we shall die!” quipped Cass, pouring excessively large drinks for everyone.  
Manny gave her a quizzical look.   
“Arcade used to say it all the time,” said Cass. “Don’t worry, we usually don’t die. Ah, except Arcade actually did. Yeaahh... but I’m sure you won’t, Manly!” she finished brightly.

Manny took his drink and moved out of bottom-pinching range of Cass. The woman had no boundaries. He took a long draught of his drink and felt happy. It was a relief to be back in Boone’s good books; Novac had become a lonely place without him.

Boone himself felt as light as air. He had killed Caesar, found his son, gotten his best friend Manny back, and as an added bonus had gotten sweet revenge on Captain Gilles in the form of _Tiny, Tiny Babies_ to the back of the head. 2,550 pages of head-cracking goodness. Last night, for the first time since the massacre, Bitter Springs had not given him a nightmare. Instead, he had had frightening dreams about dropping or losing Carlito. When he woke up, however, he wasn’t worried by them. He knew that would never happen.

Veronica was excited about her burgeoning relationship with Emily, who arrived after dinner, exhausted from a 24-hour double-shift sewing up brawlers from the streets of Freeside.

Everyone was high on life, and drunk on Cass’ giant whiskey’n’Nukas. Manny, Raul, Cass and Emily played pool, in girls vs. boys’ teams. Veronica and Boone slowdanced to the radio.

Vienna flopped on the sofa next to Vulpes, laying her head on his lap. Vulpes sat back and watched everyone, careful to take two sips of water for every one sip of alcohol. He rested one hand on Vienna’s neck and felt her blood pulse through her veins. Her head was resting right on his cock. His own blood started to flow in that direction. 

He watched Cass cheating shamelessly at pool, and Manny cheating subtly. Cass looking at Manny’s ass, Manny and Emily both looking at Veronica’s. Or was Manny looking at Boone. Boone, actually happy enough to be dancing. That was a sight he would not have expected to see. Interesting, the effect fatherhood could have on a man.

A slow song ended and Mr New Vegas started playing the fast jazz track “ _Manhattan_ ”. Raul got up and showed them how it was done back in the ‘50s. The 2050s, that is. At first he was audibly creaky, but he quickly warmed up. Jaws dropped; no one had seen moves like that before - they were more than two hundred years old.

Except Cass. Halfway through the song he grabbed Cass’ hand and pulled her in, and she twirled around the floor with him, sliding through his legs and spinning over his shoulders.  
“You guys have been _practicing_!” said Veronica, agape.  
“What else is there to do in the desert after the sun sets and it’s just you and the radio,” Cass grinned.

Vienna wandered out to use the bathroom. While she was washing her hands and glancing at herself in the mirror, Vulpes appeared in the reflection behind her, perfectly still, staring at her. She knew that look. The sight of it made her shiver. In the dim light his hair looked black and his eyes shadowy. He glided silently to her and kissed behind her ear, holding her gaze.

With cool lips he kissed down her neck to her shoulder. Her shivering intensified. He took the strap of her dress in his teeth and pulled it aside and down, leaving her shoulder bare, one breast half exposed. His teeth grazed the place where he had bitten her two days earlier and she caught her breath, anticipating pain. He didn’t bite; instead she felt the heat of his breath as the tip of his tongue ran over the damaged skin, tasting her wound.

Vulpes’ eyes in the mirror held hers with a kind of animal intensity; Vienna couldn’t look away. His hand slipped around her waist and up to her breast, slipping the dress further down to expose her nipple, and tracing his finger around it, to squeeze it gently between finger and thumb.

She felt his hardness pressing against her behind. He was starting to pull the hem of her dress up.  
“Not here,” she whispered, turning to face him.  
“Your friends have already seen us together,” he whispered back carelessly, brushing his lips against hers.

He wasn’t an exhibitionist, but he wasn’t shy either. He wanted her, and he didn’t care if they saw or not. There had been no privacy in the Legion; he had little sense of it.

She nodded her head towards the master bedroom. He might not care who saw, but she did.

He lifted her up and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him as he moved through to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He didn’t go any further, just turned and pressed her up against the door, kissing her fiercely and pushing his hips into hers. His passion for her was intoxicating and she drank in his deep kisses, feeling lightheaded.

Vulpes put her down, undid the buttons at the back of her dress, and pulled the dress over her head, tossing it aside. He took his shirt off and used it to pull her after him, walking backwards to the bed. She unfastened his trousers on the way, and slipped her hands inside them to caress his skin as she pushed them down, freeing his cock, which leapt out as though spring-loaded.

He let himself fall back onto the bed and she pulled his trousers the rest of the way off and stood over him, admiring his naked form. He reached forwards to take her hands, shuffling back further onto the bed and pulling her with him. She moved to kiss his cock but he stopped her, saying, “Turn around. Sit on my mouth.”  
Her eyes widened but she obeyed, straddling his head and parting her legs widely, her pussy right above his mouth. She leant forward and her breasts brushed his stomach, her mouth again in range of his cock. He kissed her inner thighs, then pushed her knees further apart, so he could reach her clit with his tongue. Before he licked, he looked at her, and sniffed deeply. Her womanly scent made him ache with desire.

Vienna lowered her head and kissed the head of his cock. Her hair hung down in a curtain, making it feel like his manhood and her mouth were in their own private room. She licked his testicles, filling her mouth with one and gently massaging it with her tongue. 

Feeling the caress of her tongue, Vulpes held back a moan. With trembling lips he opened his mouth wider and pushed his tongue into her pussy, licking the inside of her. She was hot and wet, and he licked her juices hungrily, swallowing to deepen the taste, and pushing in as far as he could, eliciting sighs of pleasure from her.

It was hard to pay attention to what she was doing when he was creating such beautiful sensations between her legs, but Vienna tried her best to concentrate on fellating him. She wrapped the thumb and forefinger of both hands around his shaft and pumped slowly, trying to keep an even pressure. She took him in her mouth, her lips meeting her fingers, and matched the up and down rhythm, stroking him with her tongue as she did so. The veins on his cock stood out like whipcords. She tasted his precum in the back of her mouth, and her excitement heightened.

Vulpes moved his tongue back to her clit, and pushed his fingers in where his tongue had been. She was so wet now, they slid in easily, and he added more fingers from other hand, liking the close-up view. His tongue worshipped her clit, pressing firmly and circling in, feeling it swell. But what she was doing to his cock was incredible. It was becoming almost unbearable. He was losing control... abruptly he pushed her off him and sat up, breathing roughly. He closed his eyes, trying to calm down, but it didn’t help and he opened them again.

“Are you ok?” asked Vienna, touching his arm.  
He nodded. She kept looking at him, and he took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and then grinned. He pushed her onto her back and took her the old-fashioned way, looking into her eyes and letting her pull his head down to a kiss. 

Later, they went back to the party, drinking water and still tasting each other. They played pool, and talked to other people, but couldn’t stop exchanging lustful glances.

So much had happened since Vulpes had first kicked open the safehouse door and thrown Vienna inside. It felt like aeons ago. In fact it had been only eight days.


	36. Chapter 36

The next day the occupants of the Lucky 38 all had hangovers of varying degrees. They spent the day taking it easy, until mid-afternoon, when they started preparing for the summit meeting with the Families.

Vulpes disappeared for a while, telling Vienna he was going to see Alerio. Vienna and Veronica prepared a feast and laid the table on the Penthouse floor. Boone took Carlito to the Old Mormon Fort to be looked after by Amma till the event was over.

When the time came, Cass and Raul were assigned to the front door of the Lucky 38, to act as bouncers. The guests were to be frisked for explosives or poisons, but allowed to keep their normal weaponry; Vienna wanted them to feel confident that there was no trap. Or if there was, that they might survive it.

The dinner guests arrived in factional clusters, and Veronica showed them up to the Penthouse dining area and gave them cocktails. 

Vienna, Vulpes, Boone and Manny were hidden on the far side of the upper Penthouse floor, getting ready. Loading freshly cleaned guns, and flicking off safeties.

Vulpes was in his suit, looking quite debonaire. He was equipping That Gun, a customised .223 pistol that Vienna had given him for the occasion. It was tucked out of sight under his suit jacket, in a shoulder holster. Vienna wore a merc charmer outfit, her double hip holster housing Lucky and the Mauser. Boone and Manny wore their normal gear. They weren’t going to be on display.

Veronica hustled in, grabbed Vienna’s arm and spoke in a hushed voice. “We’ve got problems. Big Sal didn’t show.”  
“He lives to die another day, then,” said Vienna casually, straightening the seams on her stockings.  
“There’s more. Nero brought a hostage.”  
That caught Vienna’s attention. “Who?”  
“Some babe from the Gomorrah. Named Joana. Said you’d know her.”  
“Oh, fuck.” Joana was an amiable ex-hooker who had done her a favour a couple of months earlier, in return for which Vienna had rescued her from forced labour at the Gomorrah, and set her free in Freeside. Hadn’t gone far, apparently.

Vienna was grudgingly impressed at the Omertas’ gambit. Not only was keeping Big Sal away and instead bringing a hostage going to cramp her style, but their choice of hostage was sending her a clear message. _Anything you do, we can undo._

She sighed. “Fuck. Ok. New plan. Guys, same positions, but just watch. No one do anything, let me handle it.”  
“What about the signal?” asked Boone.  
“Forget it now. Park your asses in the same spots, keep your fingers on triggers but don’t do anything unless you’re sure I’ve lost control of the situation. That won’t happen, but if it does... just follow your instincts.”

She patted Boone and Manny’s shoulders, gave them a confident-looking smile, and walked away to greet her guests.

The visitors, all dressed to the nines, were milling around looking at the view over the Mojave, which from that height was truly spectacular. Even Joana had been forced into a cocktail dress, though she looked pained. Nero had a tight grip on her arm, and his goon Clanden stood close behind her with his hand in his pocket.

There were 15 guests, about a third of whom were dressed-up bodyguards. The White Gloves had brought the fewest. Marjorie, Mortimer, Chauncey and Philippe were there, with just one guard. Swank from the Chairmen had brought four guards, not surprising, Vienna supposed, since it was well known that she had killed Benny, their old boss. Nero had brought Clanden, Cachino and another man.

Vienna moved among them shaking hands, smiling warmly, making small talk. Veronica brought more cocktails. Boone and Manny would be getting in place up above.

Soon Vienna ushered them to the dining table, where Vulpes was already seated with an untouched drink in front of him. Each place at the table had a nameplate written in ornate lettering, in order to try to get the Omertas to sit where Boone and Manny could get the clearest shots. As predicted, the Omertas and Chairmen all made a point of not sitting where they were supposed to, much to Marjorie’s obvious annoyance and Vulpes’ private amusement. The Omertas ended up seating themselves exactly where Vienna had hoped they would, at the far end of the table from herself and Vulpes.

When everyone was seated, Veronica went to get the food, and Vienna introduced Vulpes, describing him as her ‘companion, Mr Seth Dove’. Nero smirked slightly at that but didn’t say anything.

Joana was looking at Vienna with pleading eyes. Vienna paid her no attention whatsoever.

The food arrived, and as they ate, Vienna told them her big plans for New Vegas. Funding the full rebuilding of Freeside, and sending special advertisement caravans to all the surrounding states to encourage tourists and migrants to come to the city. She solicited contributions of money and men to the causes, coming across convincingly, as though she genuinely cared.

Vulpes said nothing, and the White Gloves and Chairmen glanced nervously at him throughout the dinner. Everyone knew who he was; over the last few days the rumour had quickly spread around Vegas that the Courier was sleeping with Vulpes Inculta of the Legion, Caesar’s prodigy, and orchestrator of some of the Legion’s more noteworthy atrocities.

Vienna started to notice that the Omertas did not look nervously at Vulpes. In fact they acted like he was not there at all. That worried her. A sudden thought gripped her heart with fear - this could all be an enormous double-cross. Vulpes had had dealings with the Omertas as a Frumentarius; they had been going to kill House and take over the Strip together. Could that be his plan now? He could easily kill her, sitting right beside her as he was. Then with the Omertas, finish off the other two Families’ leaders. Veronica would be next in the firing line, leaving only Boone and Manny still in the equation. He had probably jammed their guns or replaced their ammo with blanks, or maybe planted an explosive in the potted ferns behind which they were hiding. Holding this event in the Penthouse, so close to Yes Man’s mainframe, was a major error on her part. Maybe a fatal one.

She willed her face and hands to remain calm, and glanced casually at Vulpes. He gazed steadily ahead, giving nothing away. The plot was so simple it was staring her right in the face. Why hadn’t she seen it? Because his marriage proposal was clouding her brain. Why hadn’t her friends pointed out the risk? Likely because they thought she wouldn’t listen to any criticism of her man.  
She had been a fool.

Her only option to prevent it happening was to kill Vulpes first.

Meaning, she would never be sure if the plot against her had really existed... or if, in cold blood, she had murdered her true love.

At her side, Vulpes had no such plans. The idea had crossed his mind, but he had dismissed it without serious consideration. He loved her, genuinely wanted to marry her, and was quite happy for her to run Vegas. As long as he ran her.

***

Vulpes noticed Vienna pausing and glancing at him. Something was wrong. He looked carefully at all of the guests. Nothing seemed out of place. Marjorie exuded primness, Swank was being cocky, the Omertas were being assholes, everything appeared normal.

Next to him, he sensed rather than saw Vienna tensing.

Marjorie and Swank were talking, asking Vienna questions and trying to offer deals, but she wasn’t answering. She slowly stood up, and half-turned towards him. Her hands were open and very still, near her guns. Vulpes looked up at her then, wondering why she was turning to him, if this was the moment she’d chosen to execute the Omertas; and why she was acting so strangely, when normally she could do anything without her body language giving a warning.

For Vienna, everything had gone into slow motion. She was hyperaware of everything around her. She looked down at Vulpes, and they had a silent conversation, all eye contact and ultra-subtle changes in expression, invisible to the others.  
 _What’s wrong?_ Vulpes communicated.  
 _I just lost my trust in you. Kill me now, if you are going to. Try it. If you succeed, then you deserve to._  
 _That’s not my plan. I’m not doing anything against you. I’m with you._  
 _Oh really._  
 _I’m with you._

“Hey girlie,” Nero called. His voice was challenging, and the other guests stopped talking and looked at him. Vienna looked at him too, without turning.  
“I got something I wanna know,” Nero said, with an expression of mock-curiosity. Vienna waited.  
Nero spoke very slowly. “Do you know, who your beau is?”  
“Yes.”  
Nero leaned forward. “So why, the fuck, do you think we would listen to a thing you say, Legionfucker? You swan around, thinking you own us now. Well I got news for you, girlie. You don’t own shit. You’re just titties on legs, and you spread ‘em for the Legion.” He made a series of obscene gestures to illustrate his words.

Cachino laughed loudly. The other guests were frozen in place, but the Omertas looked relaxed. The snuff-film star Clanden was staring at her with his mouth curled in an open snarl, licking his teeth.  
“And?” said Vienna, her voice mild.  
“And so, if you like sucking bad-guy dick so much, we got plenty for ya right here,” Nero crowed, to the raucous mirth of his flunkies. He leered at her, mimicking opening his belt.

Around the table, the other Families could not meet Vienna’s eye. Marjorie stared at her plate, looking horrified, and Swank was scratching his neck and looking into his drink.

Vienna saw Vulpes begin to move and knew this was it. He was going to kill; either her, or Nero. Time slowed down even further, and for a millionth of a second, she thought about it.

She’d had a good life. And she loved that man.

She made her choice.

Her hands moved in a blur, and Nero and Clanden had holes in their foreheads. Cachino and the fourth Omerta gained matching holes before they could react. Clanden’s face dropped in his plate, Nero slumped, and the other two fell off their chairs to the floor. The four men had died in under a second.

She stood perfectly still, Lucky and the Mauser stationary in her hands, waiting to feel a blast through her ribcage, but none came.

Vulpes was standing at her side, That Gun smoking in his hand. Nero’s body had two exit wounds.

Vienna spoke in the direction of Nero’s lifeless body. “Thank you for your input, but I’ll fuck who I like.”

She looked around, smiling politely. “Has anyone else got anything they’d like to say about that?” She looked at the face of each guest in turn. “Then, speak up!” she suddenly shouted.  
The guests flinched. No one spoke.

Vienna’s voice returned to its normal, friendly tone. “Well, then. I’m glad we understand each other. Marjorie, thank you for your offer to donate some money towards advertising New Vegas, I accept. Swank, thank you for offering some manpower to rebuild Freeside, I accept that too. I am most obliged to you both. Thank you all for coming. Now, this meeting is over.”

The guests hurried to the elevator, escorted by Veronica. Joana turned and tried to attract Vienna’s attention, but Vienna continued to ignore her. She didn’t owe Joana any more favours.  
“Vienna! Thank you!” Joana called, as she went into the lift.


	37. Chapter 37

Vienna was in a cold fury. She walked over to Nero’s dead body and kicked it off the chair. It was good that the other Families had been there to see what happened to people who insulted her. If only the whole of Vegas could see. She resisted an uncivilised urge to stamp on the body, and took a deep breath to calm herself down.

Vulpes walked over to join her, crouching and going through Nero’s pockets for anything interesting.  
“Seth.”  
“Mm?”  
“I’m sorry I doubted you.”  
“Mm.” The only thing of interest on Nero was a bulging keyring, which he pocketed.

Vulpes stood up and put an arm around Vienna’s shoulders, squeezing her gently. “We’ll talk about it later.”  
He looked at the Omertas, each one executed with bullseye precision, then turned to kiss her cheek affectionately.

Vienna still stared down at Nero’s body. “You put heads on stakes around Nipton, didn’t you?” she asked.  
“I had my men do it.”  
“I want to put Nero’s head on display, in front of the Gomorrah.”  
Vulpes said thoughtfully, “I admire your instinct for spectacle... and such retribution is more than justified, but you know it will not win you any friends.”  
“Winning friends is not my objective. I want people to fear me.”  
“Mm. _It is safer to be feared than loved, if one cannot be both_ ,” said Vulpes, quoting Machiavelli. He squeezed her shoulders again. “Very well. I’ll do it for you.”  
“You don’t have to do it, just help me with it.”

Boone and Manny came down, and gave Vienna slaps on the back, saying what an asshole Nero was. Vienna sent them and Veronica away from the Penthouse floor. She didn’t want them to witness what she was going to do. Though along with the other citizens of Vegas, they would hear about it, soon enough.

It was a disgusting process, severing Nero’s neck. Vulpes lent Vienna his ripper to do it, which was efficient but made a terrible mess. She held her breath and squinted as she cut. Once separated, she put the head in the sink and they took the rest of the corpse, wrapped up in a blanket with the other three, down to the casino floor, to be disposed of later that night.

Vienna collected a six-foot throwing spear from her stash of weaponry, and tried to affix Nero’s head to the blunt end. Not easy, and even more revolting than severing it. Seeing her expression, Vulpes took over and did it for her.  
“Why do you have a spear?” he asked, when it was affixed and they were taking it down in the lift, covered with a cloth.  
“I collect one of everything,” she replied, “in weapons. You should see the bumper sword I got from a nightkin on Black Mountain. Oh damnit! I should have used that instead of the ripper.”

They walked outside, nonchalantly crossed the Strip to the Gomorrah, and paying no attention to anyone else, planted the sharp end of the spear deeply in the grassy ground in front of the Omerta’s casino. Once planted, Vienna pulled off the cloth. The effect was suitably macabre.

Then she went up to the Gomorrah’s front door, opened it a few inches, and tossed a live frag grenade inside.

She walked away and didn’t even bother turning around when she heard the explosion.

***

Nothing was more natural to Vulpes than battle. War with the Omertas was at hand and it might become a fight to the last man. Bloodlust was flooding his veins and lighting his eyes, but he had one thing he wanted to do first.

He hadn’t known the Courier was carrying a grenade until she took it out from under her jacket at the Gomorrah doors. When he saw her pull the pin, toss it in and turn to stride towards him, he had been impressed. Then, the coup de grâce – as she strode past, she had winked sassily at him - just as she had all those years ago at the rodeo, after thrilling the crowd with trick-shots. Seeing it again, he had felt almost weak at the knees, and found himself trailing after her like a lovesick puppy.

Vulpes Inculta, a man perfectly built for war, a strategist so ruthlessly ambitious and a warrior so brutal that grown men had screaming nightmares about him; a man who had never known love for another, had finally fallen in love, so deeply that his _inamorata_ had become more important to him than even war.

Kate had never looked more beautiful to him than she had at that moment, the explosion behind them shaking the ground with a seismic power echoed by his heart. As soon as they were back through the front doors of the Lucky 38, he pulled her close. The bodies they had dumped nearby were emitting the harsh odour of fresh death but it was nothing to him. He wanted her, right now. Cupping her face, he kissed her mouth urgently, crushing her soft lips, scratching her chin with his heavy stubble.

He slipped his hand up under her merc charmer miniskirt to grip her curvaceous buttock, bare except for the suspender strap holding up her silk stockings, and pulled her hips against his, for her to feel his erection. His heart was beating so hard it felt like it was trying to bash its way through his ribcage.

Vienna was more in the mood for war than for sex. Vulpes’ attentions were turning her body on, but her brain had more important matters to attend to, and though his kisses were agreeable and she kissed him back, she was distracted, her mind on contingencies. How long could they hold out in a siege? Would Big Sal be open to negotiations or would it be a fight to the death? What would she negotiate with? Could the securitrons manage the fight without need for human assistance? It would be hard to get out of the front door without risking a sniper’s bullet, and none of the windows in the Lucky 38 could be opened to shoot through. Maybe she could bust one open... but it would let dust in and ruin the air conditioning. Her mind raced.

Vulpes, thinking only of sex, was working himself into a frenzy. Every splash of Nero’s dried blood on her arms and flecked all over her chest multiplied his lust for her. The charmer jacket showed far too much cleavage, a sight that had both titillated and infuriated him during the dinner, especially as their male guests had been hardly able to tear their eyes away from it.

He lifted her onto the check-in desk to the left of the front doors and ripped her jacket open with both hands, popping all the buttons and deliberately tearing the stitching, growling, “Never wear this again.”  
Underneath she had on some kind of lace bodice which pushed up her breasts. He jerked it down enough to expose her breasts, and took them in his hands, kneading them, then leaning down to rub his stubbled face in them and suck on her nipples. 

Vienna absent-mindedly stroked his hair, still thinking tactics.  
“Yes Man! Send a securitron to dump those bodies somewhere deserted on the outskirts of town. Around North Vegas Square will do,” she said into the air.  
“Will do!” echoed Yes Man.

Vulpes was vexed by her inattentiveness. He pushed her onto her back, her legs dangling off the desk, and hiked her skirt up. Without bothering to remove her panties, he slid his fingers past them and into her, wanting to feel if he had gotten her moist. He had, and his fingers went smoothly in to the knuckle.  
“Are you wet for me, or for the battle?” he asked, gliding his hand out of her, then in again with more fingers.

She shivered slightly, but instead of answering him, called out more instructions.  
“Yes Man, serious retaliation should be incoming from the Omertas any time now. Watch for any anyone coming from the Gomorrah. And keep your eye out for any snipers or explosive packages. You have free rein to kill any Omerta acting suspiciously, until further notice.”  
“Okey dokey! This’ll be fun! Anything else?”

Vulpes shoved his hand in hard and she gasped, but wouldn’t allow herself to be diverted.  
“Don’t kill Big Sal. He is to be left untouched, and if he approaches, let me know immediately.”  
“You got it!”

Vulpes’ eyes narrowed. How dare she ignore him. How _dare_ she. His thumb swiped over her clit and she bucked involuntarily, finally paying him attention.  
“Oh, do that some more,” she whispered.  
Vulpes pointedly pulled his hand out. He licked his fingers, gazing at her eyes.  
“Come on big fella,” she wiggled her hips, trying to entice him back in.

Vulpes put his hand back inside her momentarily but took it straight out again, making her crazy. She opened her mouth to complain and he pressed the moistened fingers into her mouth and roughly told her to suck them. His eyes were icy and threatening. She sucked lightly, humouring him, more interested in trying to open his trousers. He took half a step back, out of reach.

“Ohng,” she complained incoherently around his fingers. He took them out and slapped the side of her breast.  
“Just get inside me,” she begged, blushing faintly.  
Vulpes made a small, menacing smile. He unbuttoned his fly and took his stiffened cock out for her to see.  
“Is this what you want?”  
“Yes.”  
“You crave it inside you.”  
She did not know how much longer she could take this teasing. “ _Yes._ ”  
Vulpes languidly stroked it, keeping it out of her reach. “You will get it. But not yet. When you please me. You must follow my orders.”  
Vienna wanted him so desperately now she would do whatever he said. Anything, if only he would fill her.  
“Anything,” she promised breathily.  
“Anything, no matter how debauched?”  
“Anything you tell me to do. Just tell me.”  
Vulpes considered giving her That Gun and telling her to pleasure herself with its triple barrels, but decided against it. He was angry with her, but not that angry. Yet.  
“Touch yourself,” he ordered.

With one hand she held her panties aside, and with the other she drew her fingertips along her slit. She was soaking wet now.  
“More,” he said in a low voice, watching.  
She plunged two fingers inside herself, pushing in deeply. Damn him. Why couldn’t he just hurry up and do her. She had a war to be getting on with.

Vulpes took his hands off her breast and his cock to unbuckle her heavy boots and pull them off. He grasped her panties and pulled them off too. He hooked her ankles around his neck and pushed her knees apart again, wider than before. She was laid open before him. The dim red lighting in the casino made her opening look deep red, and glisten sinfully.  
“Touch yourself,” he repeated, very softly.

Vienna wanted him inside her more than anything, but she could play this game if she had to. She had already begged him. Now she would see how he liked it. He wouldn’t be able to hold out for long, she reckoned. She reached down again and spread herself with the fingers of one hand, gliding one finger from the other hand upwards along her opening, up to her clit, circling it twice, and back down to dip inside herself, then repeat the pattern. She panted softly, deliberately enticing him, and watched Vulpes’ face as she did it. He was following the path of her finger with his eyes, showing no expression, but a throbbing vein in his neck gave him away.

Still watching her finger, he murmured, “You are toying with me. Do as you do when you are alone.”  
Vienna’s hand moved faster. She started rubbing her swollen clit with one hand, and with the other slid her fingers in and out of herself. Vulpes watched with hooded eyes, silent.

She hoped like hell this wasn’t some test of whorishness she was utterly failing.

“Bring yourself to climax,” he whispered.

Outside, the vengeful Omerta gang were starting to mount their assault. A muffled explosion shook the desk. Vulpes didn’t react, and Vienna kept moving her hand. She was getting close. Her legs started to shake.

Vulpes took Vienna’s fingers out of her and replaced them with his own, wanting to feel her orgasm. He replicated the way she had fingered herself, and with his other hand continued to slowly stroke his length.

Another massive blast went off outside, even closer this time, and it rocked the ground, battered the front doors, and completely covered the sound of the elevator opening. Cass and Boone were coming to see what was going on outside, and if Vienna needed their help. They took a couple of steps out of the lift, saw the copulating couple, and went still as statues.

***

Cass was hypnotised by the sight of Vulpes’ cock. It was one of the best she’d seen, and she considered herself something of a connoisseur. Top five, definitely. She peered closer. No, top two. Between him and Long Dick Johnson.

The sounds of gatling laser fire and several smaller explosions permeated the walls.

“Look at that monster dick,” Cass whispered to Boone, unable to take her eyes off it.  
Boone wasn’t at all interested; it was the sight of Vienna’s wanton state that had him transfixed. She was facing towards them but her eyes were closed. Her mouth was open. She was clothed but her skirt was bunched around her waist and her breasts were fully on display, and jiggling slightly as she moved. 

As they watched, she started to arch her back, panting and moaning urgently. The sound echoed around the room, and burned through Boone’s synapses.

As she climaxed, Vulpes took his cock and drove it into her. Without any warm-up strokes he started to fuck her punishingly hard. He used his body like it was a battering ram, the impacts making her breasts move in a way that made Boone’s skin tingle as he watched. He had seen them fucking once before, but that time it had been horrifying. This time it was... beautiful.

“Woah,” said Cass under her breath.

“One Mark II securitron has been destroyed, and another decommissioned by pulse grenade!” reported Yes Man, over the sounds of battle coming from outside.

Vulpes was getting close now too. He turned his head and bit Vienna’s calf, resting on his right shoulder, and saw the two dark figures silhouetted by the elevator, watching him. He paused for a moment, recognising them, and thinking what to do. Nothing, right now. Fucking voyeurs. He resumed his activity with as much vigour, but kept on staring at them as he did it.

“I think he’s made us,” whispered Cass.  
“No shit,” said Boone. The spell was broken. He turned and went back into the lift. Cass walked slowly backwards to join him, still gazing at Vulpes’ disappearing and reappearing cock.  
“Damn fine,” she murmured to herself. As the lift doors closed she leaned her head over to get every last glimpse.  
“I was wondering why she liked him so much. Everything’s clear to me now. Hey Boone...”  
Boone looked at her sideways.  
“You think there’s any chance Kate’d let me have a little piece of that man?” she asked hopefully, as the lift arrived at the suite.  
Boone didn’t answer. It was a silly question, and besides, he was busy with his own thoughts about what he’d like the Courier’s permission to do.

Down on the casino floor, Vulpes was coming hard in Vienna. She had been half-right – he had held out longer than she’d predicted, but not by much.

Vulpes buttoned himself up and handed Vienna back her boots and underwear. She put them on and readjusted her bodice. The jacket was ruined.  
“Why don’t you like this jacket?” she asked, taking the remains of it off.  
“It shows too much of your flesh.”  
“And that’s a problem because..?”  
He traced a finger between her breasts. “Because these are mine.” His tone was not-to-be-messed-with. He leaned down and kissed each one. “And mine alone.”

“Actually they’re mine. I just let you borrow them,” Vienna said.  
Vulpes smiled faintly. “Is that what you think?”  
“It’s a fact.”  
Vulpes was about to say something regrettable when a fresh explosion shook the ground and they had to grab each other for stability. Yes Man demanded Vienna’s attention, wanting new orders.

“Yes Man, you have permission to deploy missiles,” answered Vienna. The Omertas were packing more powerful ordnance than she had anticipated.


	38. Chapter 38

They went up to the Presidential suite, and found the others milling around near the lift doors wearing full armour, heavily armed, and looking worried. No one asked where they had been. Vulpes guessed Cass had filled them in.

“Are you going to destroy the Gomorrah?” asked Raul, clearly unhappy.  
“Hope not, but might have to,” said Vienna. “Yes Man! Status?”  
“Two securitrons destroyed, three out of commission, nine Omertas dead on the Strip, unknown more dead inside, doors and foyer of the Gomorrah destroyed, rest of the building intact. No current attacks ongoing,” reported Yes Man.  
“How’s the Lucky 38?” asked Vienna.  
“Doors holding and no significant structural damage. We’re indestructible! Pretty neat, huh!”  
“No sign of Big Sal?”  
“Nope, I’ll be sure to let you know if he comes out!”  
“Never mind, I’m going in,” said Vienna. She looked around. “Anyone fancy a field trip?”

Everyone fancied it. It was unnerving being cooped up inside the building whilst under attack, unable to see what was going on.  
“You got Nero’s keys?” she asked Vulpes.  
Vulpes nodded and went into the bedroom to collect the keys from his suit pocket. He had changed into his merc grunt outfit after dinner, so as not to ruin the dapper suit with blood. He wanted to keep it pristine, since he intended to wear it at his wedding. 

“Something I should mention,” said Yes Man.  
“Yes?”  
“You said to keep an eye on anyone coming out of the Gomorrah. A while ago I saw two men come out and go into Freeside, then come back and go inside again.”  
“And?” asked Vienna, making an impatient gesture.  
“And when they came back, they were carrying a baby!”

“Ohhh _fuck_. Sal you fucking _rat_ ,” muttered Vienna. She dragged a hand over her forehead and then dared a look at Boone, who was staring back at her with his jaw clenched and a twitch in his eye.  
“Craig, we’ll get him back,” she promised, trying to sound reassuring. “Goddamnit, what is it with these Omertas and taking hostages?”  
“It’s a good tactic,” said Vulpes, earning a furious glare from Boone.

Veronica said, “If they hurt Carlito I’m gonna...” and trailed off, shaking her head. She couldn’t think of anything nasty enough.  
“I couldn’t say it was Carlito, specifically,” said Yes Man.  
There was a pause.  
“Explain,” ordered Vienna.  
“It was wrapped in a cloth. It was a wrapped-up, baby-shaped object!”  
“Was it the size and shape of Carlito, specifically?” asked Vienna.  
“Sure was!” said Yes Man cheerfully.  
Vienna pinched her brow. Boone started to growl in the back of his throat.

“Gimme just two minutes,” Vienna squeezed Boone’s arm and ran into her bedroom to load up on weapons. She threw a few stealth boys into her pack for good measure. Slinging the pack on her back, she ran to the elevator, issuing orders to Yes Man as she went.

Venturing outside, the Strip was scattered with rubble, shell casings, bodies and broken securitrons. There was a row of Mark II securitrons at the ready, facing the Gomorrah. The only human in sight was a scavenger, hunched over trying to salvage parts from a destroyed securitron.

Vienna and her party picked their way through the smoking rubble and headed into the Gomorrah’s depths.

There was no one alive on the casino floor. Not many bodies either, though.  
“How many Omertas are there?” Vienna asked Vulpes.  
“Somewhere around 60 able-bodied men. Various others.”  
“Ok. We’ve already killed about 15 of them.”  
“Just 45 to go, then.”  
“Assuming none of the hookers put up a fight,” put in Raul.  
Vulpes shrugged. “Why would they?”  
“It’s a job.”  
Vulpes smiled mirthlessly. “Maybe you can employ them all when we’re done.”  
Raul muttered an insult in Spanish. Vulpes answered him in Latin. Touché. 

Vulpes led the way to Big Sal’s office, along the darkened corridors. It was eerily deserted.

Big Sal, sitting at his desk surrounded by his best men, was expecting them. He knew they would have Nero’s keys and not bother to knock. As Vulpes unlocked the door and swung it open with one hand, staying out of sight, Sal was ready, bouncing Carlito on his knee. Carlito wasn’t exactly happy but it was a new place so he was looking around with big curious eyes.

“Well. Look who it is,” said Sal in a faux-bored tone as Vienna stepped through the door, guns in hands.  
Vienna gave an equally fake smile. “Kidnapping a baby, Salvatore. Sheer class.”  
“I do what I gotta,” he said modestly.  
Vulpes stepped through the door behind Vienna. Sal looked at him appraisingly and then smirked at Vienna. “Well well. So the legends are true. I wonder which one of you is playing the other. My guess is you,” he pointed at Vulpes.   
“Yeah, I’ve heard it all before. How about you and me get down to business,” said Vienna.  
“Oh, I’d love to ‘get down to business’ with you, cookie.” Sal’s henchmen all laughed like morons. “If you’re sure your little boyfriend don’t mind.”

Vienna waited for the guffawing to end. Sal’s men all seemed to have hacking smokers’ coughs. It was obvious to her what Sal was doing; trying to make her doubt Vulpes’ loyalty, and simultaneously make Vulpes feel belittled for playing second fiddle to her, leading him to want to betray her. As recently as a day ago it might have worked. But the double bulletholes in Nero’s body said otherwise.

“Gimme the fucking kid,” she said when she could be heard without having to yell.  
“What’ll you give me in return?”  
“Your life. Gimme the fucking kid, _now_. You’ve got seven seconds.”  
“You can’t take my life. Try again,” said Sal, holding Carlito up in front of him. Carlito’s little bottom lip wobbled and he started to cry.  
“Four seconds.”  
As though by magic Carlito jerked up into the air above Sal’s head and then flew across the room, into Vulpes’ chest. Vulpes caught him and instantly vanished.

A few Omertas shouted and cocked their guns but most were too stunned to react. Veronica, Cass, Raul and Manny stepped into the room behind Vienna and pointed their guns at Big Sal.

“Where were we. Ah yes. Bargaining. For your life,” said Vienna. “My securitrons have just been playing with you so far. The Lucky 38 has mindfuckingly powerful laser cannons arrayed around its upper spire. With one single beam the Gomorrah can be utterly disintegrated. I have given the command that it should happen under certain circumstances, whether I am there or not. So.” She smiled in a friendly way.

She didn’t really intend to kill him. It was better that he stayed alive and continued to run the Gomorrah. Rivals who were already terrified of her were no bad thing – it saved her having to educate a new set.

“Shut up!” Big Sal yelled at his jabbering men. He turned back to Vienna. “What do you want.”  
“I want you and I to be friends. You, and your pet halfwits, never, _ever_ piss me off again, and in return I let you run your business. Very fair, don’t you think?”  
Sal nodded slowly.  
“You are responsible for the behaviour of your men, Salvatore. I hear even the vaguest rumour that anything unpleasant has occurred on your premises, you better personally bring me one hell of a good explanation for it or I will shut you down, once and for all.”  
Sal stared at her.  
“Do we have an understanding?” Now Vienna was the one to sound bored.  
Sal chewed his lip. It was a surprisingly reasonable offer and he had no other option than to agree, but he wanted to at least look like he was considering it.  
“Alright,” he said, standing up and sticking his hand out to shake.  
“Good. No need for that,” she said, and walked out.


	39. Chapter 39

The RobCo Stealth Boy 3001. What a marvelous piece of technology. Vulpes had had the opportunity to use them on rare occasions in the past, and every time he delighted anew in their astonishing effectiveness. It was electronic witchcraft. Exiting the Gomorrah into the early twilight, Boone had appeared as a mere shimmering in the air. In the gloom of Big Sal’s office a few minutes earlier, which had no natural light, he had been almost entirely invisible, unless you knew where to look. Sal and his men had been so busy staring lasciviously at Vienna’s silvery lace bustier, strapless and now jacketless, that they had failed to notice anything else.

Carrying Carlito had been an odd sensation, not being able to see him in his arms – or even see his own arms. As soon as they had reached the sanctity of the Lucky 38 they had switched the stealth boys off and Vulpes had wordlessly handed Carlito back to his father.

Boone hadn’t said anything either, but he was nearly crying with relief. He’d hugged Carlito tightly, kissed his forehead and cheeks, and whispered apologies and promises to never let him go again.

In the lift on the way up to the suite, there had been an awkward feeling between the men. The truce, which - on Vulpes’ side at least - was predicated on Boone having no romantic designs on the Courier, now felt more fragile.

Eventually Vulpes decided to broach the subject directly. “Why were you watching the Courier and I together, this evening?”  
Boone looked uncomfortable. “It was an accident.”  
“You accidentally watched us for several minutes.”  
The skin under Boone’s blonde hair turned slightly pink. “We were looking for Vi- uh, Kate. To see if she needed help.” This didn’t explain the time delay and he knew it, but there was no coherent explanation to give. He had simply not been able to stop looking.  
“That was the second time you have watched us _in flagrante delicto_. Perhaps you would like to come and observe us a third time, later tonight.”  
Boone’s brow knitted and he glanced sideways at Vulpes. Was this a joke, or a test? It was impossible to know when he was joking. Surely he must be.  
“Har. Nah. Seen enough to last a lifetime,” he grunted, feeling claustrophobic and willing the lift to arrive at the suite faster so he could escape Vulpes’ gaze. 

Carlito came to the rescue by poking his father in the eye, and Boone was able to pay attention to him and ignore Vulpes. After a moment Vulpes relented and quit staring at him.

Boone got himself a cold beer while they waited for the others to return. He took a long draught, then flopped onto the sofa to play with Carlito. Vulpes picked up an enormously thick pre-war book entitled _The Open Society and its Enemies_ that he was working his way through. He found his place in it, but he was not intending to read for long. If Vienna did not return in the next five minutes he would go back for her.

He didn’t have to worry, less than three minutes later Vienna and the rest of the gang walked in.

Boone was lying on his back, tickling Carlito who was sitting on Boone’s chest, gurgling with laughter. They all looked up when Vienna and the crew came in. Boone gave Vienna a warm look.

Vulpes asked, “What news.”  
Vienna perched on the arm of the sofa, next to him. “He promised to be good. Ha. We’ll see.”  
Vulpes wanted to talk to her, but it would have to wait. The 38ers were in full Victory Mode, cracking jokes, laughing uproariously, opening beers and clinking bottles as they saluted each other.

As though it were an omen, he noticed Vienna gazing at Boone speculatively. _Don’t look at him. It is bad enough that he looks at you._

“Hey Craig,” she said presently.  
“Mm.” Boone was holding Carlito up in the air and swishing him around making him ‘fly’. Carlito was pink-cheeked and squealing with laughter.  
“Seems like Carlito isn’t safe to be babysat at the Followers’ anymore.”  
“Nope.”  
“There’s not much room for her here, but how about I get Amma a nice secure suite at the Tops?”  
Boone looked over in surprise. “Yeah, that’d be great.” He smiled gratefully. “Thanks. Her name’s Aya, by the way.” He went back to playing Vertibird with Carlito.

Vulpes went back to his book. “...remember Plato’s identification of individualism with egoism; for all these Platonists believe that anti-individualism is the same as selflessness.” _Isn’t it?_ he wondered.

“Hey Vee,” said Cass, sitting down on the next sofa, with a beer in one hand and a shot of liquor in the other. “What happened to your idea to kick out the White Gloves? Cos’ you know, it was a crazy fuckin’ idea, but I kinda woulda liked to see Marjorie and Mortimer’s faces as they were escorted to the uncivilised wilds of, ooh yikes, Freeside.” She mimicked Marjorie’s typical prissy facial expression.  
“Quelle horreur!” laughed Veronica, waving her open hands mockingly.  
Vienna answered, “I decided to let sleeping dogs lie. I’ll do the banished-in-disgrace plan if I hear any more whispers about cannibalism though.”

“What about the Omertas? I liked the idea to blow them all away,” said Veronica. “Sorry, Raul,” she added.  
Turning a page, Vulpes spoke without looking up from his book. “Realpolitik.”  
There was a pause. “Huh?” said Veronica.  
Vienna sipped her drink. “Yeah. I was going to, but then I thought about it and realised that it wasn’t necessary. I’m pretty sure that now Big Sal’s seen what happened to Nero, he’ll be keen to stick on my good side.”  
“Especially since he bought your bluff about being able to use the Lucky 38’s laser cannons,” said Veronica.  
“Ha ha, yeah. If only we had access to them.”  
“Why don’t you?” asked Vulpes, interested now.  
“It’s on a separate mainframe to the one Yes Man controls, and we haven’t figured out how to crack it yet.”

She was a disturbingly good liar, Vulpes thought. He had bought the story too.

Later in the evening, after quite a few beers and as many more shots, Cass started staring at Vulpes like she’d never seen him before. He sensed it and looked up from his book to stare back at her, his eyes unfriendly, but it didn’t put her off.  
“Foxxy... are you growing a beard?” she asked. “Cos’ uh, I do like a man in a beard.”  
Everyone except Boone looked at Vulpes, who didn’t answer but kept staring at Cass, his expression now exuding open contempt.  
Boone looked at Cass, with a warning in his eyes.  
A bad feeling seemed to infect the room. “Me too, Cassie,” said Veronica perkily, hoping to defuse it.  
“You like a man?” teased Raul.  
“I’m just saying, if I were a man I’d have one. They look refined,” Veronica said.  
“I think they look very manly. Virile, even,” said Cass. Glancing at his crotch she took a swig of her beer and let Vulpes see her lips and tongue caress the neck of the bottle.  
Vulpes stared poisoned daggers at her.  
“Leave off, Cass,” snapped Boone, a hard edge in his voice.

Vienna was surprised to see Vulpes so incensed, and surprised again to see Boone speaking for Vulpes. She wondered what was going on. Cass was a natural flirt, everyone knew that. It didn’t bother her in the slightest... so why was it provoking such a bad reaction from the men?

Vulpes got up and stalked off, carrying his book. He went into the master bedroom, shutting the door behind him, and stripped his clothes off. He would not be returning to the party tonight. He lay down on his back to continue reading, but the words blurred on the page as anger washed through him. How dare that harlot try to solicit him, when she knew he was betrothed, and right in front of Kate, her own close friend. He was not flattered by the attention. He was furious, to the extent that he wanted to kill her. Such a revolting display of disloyalty and lechery. Kate must get rid of Cass, as soon as possible. He would help her see that.

After a while he calmed down, and went back to his book. “...From the point of view of totalitarian ethics, from the point of view of collective utility, Plato’s theory of justice is perfectly correct. To keep one’s place _is_ a virtue. It is that civil virtue which corresponds exactly to the military virtue of discipline... If the individual is nothing but a cog, then ethics is nothing but the study of how to fit him into the whole.”  
Vulpes thought about that. He himself had been a cog. Boone, too, albeit in a different machine.  
“...Totalitarianism is not simply amoral. It is the morality of the group, or the tribe; it is not individual but collective selfishness.”  
This was a new idea. Vulpes had spent his life serving others. He had never thought of himself as selfish in any way.

Behind his book, out of his line of sight, the door opened and soft footsteps entered. He heard it and was glad. Kate.

Cass walked slowly into the room, closing the door behind her. She looked at Vulpes lying naked on the bed and her eyes fixed on his manhood. There it was again, humungous cock, over equally proportioned balls. Oh lordy, she thought to herself. Mmm-hmm. If she could just have a little play... Vienna wouldn’t mind, or Kate or whatever she was calling herself now. A man built like this shouldn’t be kept by one woman, he should be shared. It was only right.

She moved closer, and was starting to reach out to touch the cock when the heavy book he was reading left his hands and smacked into her face, sending her staggering backwards. He jumped up and hit her again, this time with his closed fist. He caught her jaw and she was knocked out for a few seconds. She fell against a wardrobe and then to the ground.

***

Vienna had seen Cass stroll casually out of the billiards room, and it did occur to her that her drunken friend might be going to pay a visit to Vulpes, but she wasn’t worried. He would send her packing, right away. Vienna felt tired, and wanted nothing more than to stay flopped on the sofa, with a drink in her hand, listening to Manny’s stories of his and Boone’s exploits when they were in 1st Recon together.

It was when Cass didn’t immediately return that Vienna got up to investigate. She glanced into the bathroom. No Cass. She opened the master bedroom door and saw Cass slumped against the wardrobe to the right of the bed, one hand holding her face. Vulpes, unclothed, was standing over her. He turned when Vienna entered.

Vulpes nodded a greeting to Vienna then crouched down to look closely at Cass, till she looked back at him. He said, “If you wish to remain amongst the breathing, I would advise you to keep well away from me.” His expression was neutral but his voice was granite.

Vienna observed all this, and saw the swelling on Cass’ jaw. She turned and went back to the party.

Raul was watching Vienna when she returned to the party, but she showed no sign that she had seen anything untoward. She sat down in the place she had been before, found her drink and took a sip. She wasn’t angry with Cass. With anyone else she would have been, but Cass had her proclivities and everyone knew it, and if it had bothered Vienna she would have gotten rid of her long since. Besides, had Vulpes entertained Cass’ attentions, it would have been Vulpes she would have gotten rid of, not her dipsomaniac friend.

Cass came in, still holding her puffy jaw. She went to her glass, refilled it, downed it in one and refilled it again.  
“Take it easy there Cass,” said Manny. “And what happened to you?”  
“Lil’ accident, need to numb the pain,” said Cass indistinctly.  
Raul was looking at Cass with an old, sad look in his eyes.

“Raul, to ease the crowding here, would you like me to get you and Cass a suite at the Tops, too?” asked Vienna. “Or at Vault 21, if you prefer?”  
“Can you afford that, Boss?” asked Raul.  
“Easily.”  
“Then yeah, why not,” said Raul, looking at Cass. “What do you think, chica? Tops eh?”  
“Ok.” Cass didn’t sound very enthusiastic. You had to pay for your own drinks at the Tops. With her consumption, that could get quite costly. Whereas, the 38 was stocked with ludicrous amounts of alcohol, more than even she could swallow in a lifetime.  
“I’ll send along some crates of whiskey as a suite-warming present,” said Vienna. She stood up. “Goodnight, my friends.” She bowed slightly and walked out, heading for bed and sweet oblivion.

“Yes Man, have some securitrons clear away the rubble and the bodies on the Strip tonight. And tomorrow, send a team over to help rebuild the front of the Gomorrah,” she said as she walked.  
“Okey dokey!”

She stopped by the bathroom and found Vulpes there, running a bath. She went up to him, and hugged him silently. He put his arms around her and held her tightly, and they stood like that till the bath was run.

Separating, Vienna whispered, “I’m sorry about that. She doesn’t mean it. It’s just the booze.”  
Vulpes got into the bath and said nothing. He had had to restrain himself from severely injuring Cass. If she tried to touch him again, he wasn’t sure he could hold himself in check.

Vienna saw the look on his face, and added, “I’m moving her and Raul out to the Tops tomorrow, so it shouldn’t happen again.” She took off her bloodied clothes and joined him in the bath, facing him.

Vulpes stroked her legs and rubbed her feet. After a while he said, “I could have killed her.”  
“I know.”  
“You should have killed her. It is a mistake to tolerate such disloyalty in your companions. Even once.”  
“Kill Cass?” Vienna made a face. “Not in a million years. She’s a great friend. You just have to ignore her when she’s drunk.”  
“Which is all the time. And I cannot ignore people who are trying to grope my genitalia.”  
“Is that what she did?” Vienna couldn’t help giggling a little. Oh Cass. Playing with fire, and getting burnt.  
“I find it extraordinary that you would think that funny.”  
“I guess I’m a bit drunk too.” Vienna lifted her legs out of the bath and let them hang on either side of Vulpes, dripping on the floor. She slipped down till the bathwater covered her mouth.

Vulpes looked intently at her. “You and I will be married very soon. And when we are, I would like it if we lived alone, without all your friends around all the time.”

Vienna stayed half-submerged. She had always known that Vulpes would try to separate her from her friends, and would continue to do so, until he succeeded. They and he may have a ceasefire, but they would never really be at peace.

They looked at each other for a while, and Vulpes began to stroke her inner thighs under the water. It felt good, and she wanted to abandon herself to the sensations, but she needed to have this conversation. Reluctantly she raised her head enough up out of the water to speak.

“Seth, I understand why you don’t like them, and as I said I’ll put Cass over at the Tops from now on, for her own protection as well as yours. But you need to understand that they are more than just my friends, they are my employees and my bodyguards. I don’t just like them; I need them.”  
Vulpes said nothing.  
Vienna went on, “After all, look what happened to me when I got separated from them at the Fort.” She gave a twisted smile.  
“Ha ha.”  
“It’ll just be Craig, Manny and Veronica. Maybe with Emily from time to time. That’s tolerable, isn’t it? Veronica’s alright about you, and I thought you got along with Craig now?”

Vulpes was unable to tell Vienna about the voyeurism incident. That cast Boone as a man interested in her, and he didn’t want her to think about it.  
It was only fleeting but Vienna saw his hesitation. “Did something happen with you and Craig? You’ve both been acting kinda weird tonight.”  
Damned perceptive woman. “Boone is a single man. It is not appropriate to have him living with you,” Vulpes prevaricated.  
Vienna did the same. “He doesn’t see himself as single.”  
Vulpes knew that was no longer true, but all he said was, “It is a matter of appearances. It looks bad, you living with three fit men and a pretty lesbian.”  
Vienna laughed. “What, you think people will picture me having Roman orgies up here? Chance would be a fine thing. Besides, I daresay the general population wouldn’t even disapprove of that, they’d just be jealous.”  
“Romans did not have orgies. That is a myth.” Vulpes’ eyes narrowed. She was getting him off-topic. “You are perfectly safe here. Yes Man protects you, as do I. Your friends can all live nearby. Just not here.”  
“That’s not for you to decide, Seth,” Vienna said softly.

Vulpes let it go, for the time being. He would resume the conversation another time, when she was in a different mood.

Vienna’s whisky-infused mind roved back to Roman orgies. “Did you and Lucius and Caesar ever have orgies at the Fort?” she asked.  
“No.”  
“Did Caesar have sex with the slaves?”  
“Yes.”  
“Did you?”  
“On rare occasions.”  
“That’s disgusting.”  
“Indeed. They were filthy.”  
“You know that’s not what I mean.”  
Vulpes smiled faintly. This conversation was going in all the wrong directions. He threw water on his face and hair, got out of the bath, dried himself and walked away.

When Vienna later joined him in bed, he lay still in the darkness, waiting for her to embrace him, half-afraid she would not. She lay on her back next to him, not quite close enough to be touching. A minute passed, and then another. Vulpes started to feel desperate for her touch. A dark loneliness seeped in and began to smother him. Without her he was nothing. No, not nothing... but not who he wanted to be. Without her he would be like Boone had been without Carla. A void in the shape of a man.

He was tired but sleep was far away. He listened to her breathing and could tell she was awake also.  
“Kate.”  
“Mm.”  
Nothing. Her stillness was torture to him.  
“You know I would do anything for you.”  
“I know that.” She still didn’t move.  
“Why did you doubt me, today?”  
Vienna rolled on her side, facing him, but still not touching. “It was the way the Omertas were acting, so studiously ignoring you. It threw me off and for a moment I thought you might’ve been in cahoots with them. I’m sorry Seth. I know you’re true.”  
“Are you sure of me now?”  
“Yes.” She moved closer and lightly kissed his cheek. He turned to try to catch the kiss with his lips but it was too quick.  
He whispered, “Kiss me again.”  
This time her lips touched his. Vulpes’ blood began to flow once more.

Vulpes Inculta was right about one thing. There was a lot of sexual tension between the 38ers, and it was exacerbated by living in such close proximity to each other.

That night, everyone dreamed of sex.


	40. Chapter 40

After putting Carlito to bed, which took some time, Boone made a bed for himself on a sofa and lay in the dark, thinking of Vienna in the dim casino. He saw again her pose of total abandonment, her swaying breasts, and her expression of incredible sexual pleasure as she took that intense pounding. He wanted to be the man in that place. He wanted to spread her legs, penetrate her, grind into her till she was putty in his hands. He wanted to fill her with his seed, and watch it spill out of her as he took her again.

His hand moved to his cock and he handled it roughly, pulling and squeezing, seeing himself inside her. She could walk in right now and sit on top of him, to ride wildly like he had seen her do outside the safehouse. Slamming down on him, breasts and hair flying. His hand moved faster, until with a suppressed gasp he released.

In spite of his fantasy, when Boone fell asleep a little later, it was not Vienna he dreamed of.

_Boone’s dream._

_Boone walks into the Tops, ascends to the second floor and enters a brightly-lit room. Aya sits on a chair there, bare breasted, gently rocking a baby to sleep. She looks up as he enters, and smiles. She is nothing like the Courier. The Courier is all schemes and angles. Aya is soft, brown and round. Her eyes are kindly, never calculating. She is warmth and gentleness made flesh._

_Aya puts the sleeping baby down and goes to lie on the bed. Her eyes welcome him to join her. Boone crawls onto the bed, and kisses his way up from her toes to her breasts. He suckles on her generous nipples, and tastes the sweet milk. He drinks deeply, and feels renewed. He kisses her mouth, and she parts her lips willingly, inviting him in. Her legs part too, and she guides him into her. Gently, he takes her, careful not to hurt her. She is even warmer and softer inside. He makes love to her for a long time, slowly, kissing her mouth as he pushes deeply into her. He slides in and out of her so gently he surprises himself when he comes, gushing into her. She ties her legs tightly around him and holds him inside her, and he is happy._


	41. Chapter 41

Vulpes’ Dream

_Vulpes Inculta wakes in his tent at the Fort, on a fine warm Mojave morning, that - at first - seems just like every other. A light breeze tickles his face and sunlight slants in through an opening in the tent. He has been sleeping naked, on a thin mat over hard dirt. It feels good. Pure._

_He sits up, expecting to hear the usual sounds of Fort life. But there is nothing. No voices, no dogs barking, no sounds of the movements of soldiers or domestics. It is eerily quiet, and the only sounds he hears are of the rows of canvas tents fluttering softly in the wind, the cry of a bird above and the answer from its mate._

_Vulpes looks around his tent, intending to dress, but his uniform is not there, nor are any of his meagre belongings. It doesn’t seem to matter. He steps out of the tent and straightens up, feeling pleasure as the warm breeze curls around his skin, and looks for Lucius and the others. There is no one to be seen. No bodies or blood either. The Fort stands, but is empty of life, apart from the birds floating in the air high above._

_He is alone._

_Vulpes walks up the slope towards the command tent, wondering where all the men have been sent to. Are they fighting somewhere? Has an attack been launched that he has slept through? How humiliating, to miss a battle by sleeping in. Completely unlike him... could he be ill, or have been drugged?_

_Approaching the command tent he sees no guards outside it. Caesar must have gone to the battle too. He opens the flap and enters. No praetorian guards. Caesar’s throne at the far end is empty. He walks towards it anyway._

_Passing though a division into the throne room, he sees the bare back of a lone figure, bent over, studying a map spread out on the table. It is the narrow-waisted, round-hipped, voluptuous-bottomed figure of a fit, well-fed woman. She is no slave. As he comes closer, she straightens up to take a wider view of the map, and long, glinting hair swings down to her hips. He knows her. It is the Courier._

_“What are you doing here, Courier?” he asks, coming so close that his breath warms the back of her ear. She does not look at him, but answers in a strange, singsong voice._

_“Waiting for you, my love;_  
 _as you have waited for me._  
 _We are fated together by Mars;_  
 _As cold and lonely as falling stars._  
 _You are the only one of your kind;_  
 _and I am the last of mine.”_

_She leans back against him and her hands slip back to pull his hips against her buttocks. Vulpes moves his hands under her arms and around her chest to cup her soft breasts. They feel heavier than they should. She turns her head and leans it back slightly, allowing him to kiss her mouth. Vulpes kisses her deeply, kneading her swollen breasts in his hands._

_She breaks the kiss and leans forward over the table again, looking at the huge, finely detailed map of the region._  
 _“We can take everything,” she whispers. Vulpes caresses her hair, stroking downwards from the head to her hip. His hand follows the curve of her buttock, and his fingers find her sex, warm and wet.  
_ _“I will take you, first,” he murmurs in reply._

_Touching light kisses to her shoulders, Vulpes caresses the Courier’s skin, smooth over firm muscles. The scent of her is a heady mix of brocflower, gunpowder and blood. He breathes it in, and licks her skin to taste it._

_He no longer cares where Caesar is. It doesn’t matter if anyone comes in and sees them. He is his own man now, and will kill any man who tries to come between him and the Courier. He nudges her legs apart, and enters her reverently. She is his first and only real possession. He owns nothing else, but needs nothing else. She is a weapon, one of devastating effect, and he can and will use it to achieve his every ambition._

_He breathes deeply, pushing further in. The combined physical, intellectual and emotional sensations of pleasure and power are sublime._

_Pausing, fully embedded in her, he feels her internal muscles pulse around him. He wraps his arms tightly around her torso, pulling her onto him, and stays still, enclosed in her, feeling her body sucking him. Gradually she pulses faster, and tighter, the growing intensity pushing him towards the edge. He feels himself begin to lose control and fights it, wanting it to last longer, the sensation delighting him too much to ever want it to end, but with a groan his seed spills deep inside her._

_She groans too, but not from pleasure. She sounds distressed. The room darkens. He withdraws from her and turns her around to look at her, wishing to understand what’s wrong. Her face is contorted with pain, and looking down he sees her belly is distended. He picks her up and carries her to Caesar’s bed, laying her gently on her back. The room grows darker. She groans again then rolls onto her hands and knees. Her belly is huge now._

_Clutching at the bedcovers, she starts breathing very fast, and Vulpes realises with terror that she is going to give birth, right now. Straining, and grunting with each effort, she pushes a head out. Vulpes takes it in both hands and pulls. The body comes out easily. It is a tiny girl. She opens her eyes and Vulpes sees steely grey reflecting back at him. His daughter. He had expected a son, but it no longer seems to matter. As his daughter’s eyes meet his, he falls in love. This girl will be everything. He will teach her all he knows, and one day she will rule an empire._

_The Courier groans again; she is not finished. A twin is arriving. Vulpes carefully puts his daughter down on the bed, and helps the second baby enter the world. It is a boy, but Vulpes feels a chill when the baby looks at him. This baby has familiar eyes too, but they are not like Vulpes’ own.  
They are the eyes of Atticus._


	42. Chapter 42

Vienna’s Dream

_Kate lies in the warm sun, so bright it is blinding her. Shading her eyes, she glances around. She is on the sofa outside the safehouse. Seth is reclining at the other end of the sofa, eyes closed. Like her, he is naked. She studies him. The lines of his physique are superb. Exquisitely built shoulders and upper arms. A beautifully shaped skull. A perfectly carved jaw, which currently sports a rough beard, flecked with silver._

_Something else is glinting silver. There are chains around his wrists and ankles. He is tightly chained, allowing no movement. His arms, bent behind his head as though he is merely resting his head back on them, are secured. Well, well. He is completely vulnerable to her, just as she once was to him._

_She moves to stand in front of him, shadowing him from the sun. He opens his eyes and looks at her. He does not seem surprised at all to find himself in chains. He smiles, and gestures with his head for her to come close. She leans down and kisses his lips lightly. He leans forward for more but she pulls back, just an inch out of his reach, smiling teasingly. His expression becomes lustful. His cock hardens and aims at her. Looking at it, she feels herself become moist. He gestures again for her to come close, motioning her to sit down in his lap, but she stays back, and instead slides one finger languorously into her pussy, then leans forward to apply the moisture to his lips._

_She watches him get more and more excited, his lips parted and eyes aflame. She puts one foot up on the sofa and leans close, allowing his tongue to swipe hungrily into her wet opening, just once, before she steps out of reach again._

_The taste inflames him further and he begins panting roughly, struggling to free himself, never taking his eyes from hers. Kate crouches between his knees and places the lightest of kisses on his tip of his erection. He gasps in pleasure. She licks his testes, sucks them into her mouth and squeezes them for a second, then releases and blows on them, watching them tighten. Precum leaks from his glans and runs down the shaft of his cock. Slowly, with the tip of her tongue, she licks it back up. When she reaches the top he thrusts upward to try to enter her mouth but she is faster than that and rears back, shaking a finger at his impertinence._

_A movement in the rocks beyond catches her eye. A man approaches, one with broad shoulders over a massive chest, tapered to slender hips. Clean-shaven, wearing tinted glasses.  
And a red beret._

_It is Craig, walking steadily towards her. He passes Seth as though he wasn’t there. As he gets up close she sees his eyes. They are on her, and they are full of love._

_Reaching her, Craig kisses her full on the mouth. Fear and pleasure mingle potently in Kate’s nervous system, making her breathless. Craig kisses like a man possessed, one arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, the other around her hips, letting her feel his erection, clasping her too hard and bruising her with it._

_He pays no attention to Seth, who is fighting to break loose, his taut muscles straining and chafing against his bonds._

_Craig pulls his shirt over his head, uses each foot to pull off his loosely laced boots, and undoes his belt, dropping his fatigues to the dusty ground. Putting his arms around Vienna’s chest, he lifts her up and onto him, letting her slide down onto his shaft. She clings onto his muscled neck, and grips his waist with her knees._

_Seth can only watch, jerking against his chains, as Craig fucks Kate right in front of him. From his vantage point below them he can see the underside of Craig’s silky-skinned, hard member, sliding up, up, into Kate’s swollen, wet pussy. Seth snarls in fury._

_Craig thrusts harder into her, large roughened hands gripping her buttocks for greater traction. Reflected in his sunglasses Kate sees her own face, contorted in ecstasy, and behind her, Seth. The ferocious ex-legionary makes a tremendous jerk and the chains fly apart. He leaps at her and wrestles them both down._

_But his urgency is not to kill. He wants to fuck her; better, harder than Craig. To show her who is rightfully her man._

_Seth pushes his cock so deeply into her mouth she begins to suffocate, but the overwhelming pleasure of it overrides any fear of asphyxiation._

_Underneath her, Craig does not falter. He fucks her hard, grunting with his own pleasure._

_Deprived of oxygen, Kate does not know which will come first, orgasm or blackout; both are perilously close. They arrive together. Just as her vision starts to blur and blacken, Seth releases her head and pulls out of her mouth, moving around behind her. She gasps for air, still orgasming around Craig’s deep penetration._

_On one knee behind her, Seth eases his cock snugly into her soaked cunt, right next to Craig’s, and starts to fuck her steadily._

_Kate moans aloud, feeling the gorgeous sensation of two men competing to reach the deepest place inside her._

_She wants to sing with happiness. Her pussy is stretched to its limit, and Craig’s tongue in her mouth makes her feel triply penetrated._

_Craig pulls out, moves up and takes her mouth. She tastes her own juices on his slick cock. His texture is different from Seth’s; smoother, less heavily veined. She licks and sucks fervently, thirsty for his fluid. Craig gazes at her face as she sucks him._

_The sky is vast and empty above them. A silent breeze cools Kate’s overexcited body. The only sound is the slapping of Seth’s hips on her ass, and her happy panting in time with his thrusts. Each thrust pushes her mouth more deeply onto Craig’s beautiful cock._

_Seth gradually moves faster, and soon begins to bore into her in heavy, powerful strokes, each one making her feel more lightheaded. A second orgasm sweeps through her, and Craig begins to come too, fragrant liquid filling her mouth and throat. She swallows, again and again._

_“Kate,” whispers Seth, gripping her shoulder, as he also comes in her, hot liquid spilling out. “Kate, wake up. Kate. Kate!”_


	43. Chapter 43

Vulpes woke up with a jerk, sitting up and rubbing his face. He turned on the light by the bed, looked at Vienna sleeping beside him, pulled the quilt down and inspected her belly. Normal. But then that wasn’t a surprise, he reminded himself. He had only captured her days ago. Not even two weeks. Even if she was pregnant, it wouldn’t show for a long time yet.

“Kate,” he said softly, wanting to wake her without alarming her.  
As usual for her, she stayed resolutely asleep, and he had to shake her shoulder and say her name few more times to awaken her.  
“Ok,” she said groggily, as though in answer to a question.  
“Kate.” Vulpes lay back down facing her, his face close to hers. He brushed loose strands of hair away from her face.  
“Uh. Mm. Yes.” She was still half asleep.  
“When...” Vulpes tailed off, realising he had never discussed this subject with a woman before and wasn’t sure how to. “When are you expecting your menses?” he tried.  
Vienna’s eyebrows rose slightly. “My what?”  
“Your... lunar cycle,” said Vulpes, feeling uncomfortable. He had a vague idea that it had something to do with the phases of the moon.

Vienna looked at him for a while.

“Um,” she eventually said, awake now, and understanding what he meant, but struggling to remember when it should be, or even what day it was. Vulpes waited. After a long time, she said, “It should be today, I think.”  
“The day that has just been, or tomorrow?”  
“Been.”  
“So it didn’t come.”  
“Yeah, but...” she shrugged one shoulder. “One day late is nothing. Why, are you afraid I might be pregnant?”  
“I want to make you pregnant,” Vulpes said. He just didn’t want her to be pregnant to Atticus.  
“Give it a few more days and we’ll see. And maybe we should start using some kind of contraception. I don’t really want a baby,” Vienna said.  
That was disappointing to hear, but he felt confident he could change her mind.  
“I do. Wouldn’t you like a Carlito of your own?”

It was true that Carlito was a pretty adorable baby, as far as babies went, but Vienna wasn’t interested.  
“I’m too busy for that.”  
“We can employ people to help look after them most of the time, you will hardly notice.”  
“Them?”  
“Our sons. And daughters,” he added, remembering his dream.  
Vienna laughed at that. Then she stopped, and went serious. “This world is way too fucked-up for children, Seth.”  
“Not true. We enjoy life, don’t we?”  
“Only ‘cos we’re so fucked-up ourselves.”  
“There has never been a time in human history that people have not been “fucked-up”, as you put it.”  
Vienna thought about that.  
Vulpes affectionately stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You might already be pregnant. I just dreamed that you were.” He watched to see how she would react.

Vienna looked sceptical. The reason she had been so cavalier about sex with Vulpes was that she secretly believed that she could not get pregnant. So much time spent walking the wastes... she must surely have absorbed an awful lot of radiation and other toxic elements over the years. If Vulpes’ story about her past was true, then she must be about 33 years old, possibly more. No kids so far.

...or did she? Suddenly it struck her that she did not know for sure if she had ever had children or not. She might even already be married to someone, somewhere; and be about to commit bigamy.

“Uh, Seth? Back when you were researching me, did you hear anything about me having had a child, or being married?” Vienna grimaced inside, knowing the question was useless. He would say no, whatever the answer was.

“I made enquiries, but no one knew anything,” Vulpes replied. It was the truth. Having been interested in her marriageable properties, he had specifically asked for information about whether she already had a family, and gotten no confirmation in either direction.  
Seeing Vienna’s expression, he tried to allay her fears. “I don’t think you had either.”

From everything he had gleaned about her, he had formed the strong impression that she had been a lone wolf, particularly after her father was killed. She accepted long range deliveries for the Mojave Express; never turned a job down, no matter how dangerous the territory; traveled alone, and generally kept to herself. People here and there would describe themselves as her friends, and speak warmly of her, but when pressed they became vague on details. None of them seemed to actually know her well, despite their claims. No one had ever seen her with a partner, and the other Express couriers, all men, boasted no success in their various efforts to seduce her.

Knowing her as he did now, Vulpes was starting to understand those reports. She had an odd way of being in a room yet somewhere else. She would seem garrulous, and you could come away feeling you had had a heart-to-heart conversation, then on thinking it over realise she had revealed almost nothing of herself. She was charismatic and her mere presence drew attention, but her own attention was always elsewhere, somewhere no one could join her.

It was this feeling, that he could never quite own her, or even fully know her, that kept Vulpes intrigued to the point where it had become an obsession, always wanting to get closer to her, please her, impress her, and most importantly to keep her.

An unexpected result of this was that, because he wanted to impress her, she made him strive to be a better man.

Conversely, simply being in Vulpes’ company had begun to make Vienna a less good person. She had been steadfastly neutral before she took up with him, but now she walked the edge of darkness.

Before him, she would never have hacked the head off an enemy and put it on a spike to display in public. She might have jokingly considered it, but not gone through with it. Vulpes’ presence in her sphere tacitly gave her permission to go beyond the modest ethical boundaries she had once been contained within. He had introduced a ruthless pragmatism to her outlook. She had dealt in death long before she met him; the difference was, she no longer believed that her ends did not justify her means.

Without even trying, or perhaps because he hadn’t tried, Vulpes had converted the Courier to his unique and lethal brand of Machiavellianism.

Vienna was thinking it over. She said, “I cannot validly marry you the day after tomorrow if I am already married.”  
“Any such previous marriage, since you have no knowledge of it, could no longer be valid in itself,” countered Vulpes.  
“In sickness and in health. And losing my memory would probably count as sickness.”  
“I doubt it, you are perfectly well, and perfectly in your right mind. If anything, the event of your memory loss should count as annulment. _If_ you were ever married, which I don’t think you were.”   
Vienna studied Vulpes’ face. “I can hardly trust you on that point, can I,” she said quietly.  
“Yes, you can. I am always honest with you,” said Vulpes.  
“What if I have children?”  
He shook his head dismissively. “I don’t think you do.”  
“But I could,” said Vienna, vexed. “They could be abandoned somewhere, and need me.”  
Vulpes’ voice was soft but intent. “No. Kate, you were an Express courier. They said you took the toughest jobs they had, and you always traveled alone. You were on the road for weeks at a time, one delivery after another, for years. You could not have had children that needed caring for. Or, if you did, they were cared for by someone else, and you weren’t concerned.”

He held her gaze for a long time, until finally she nodded and looked away. He stroked her hair.

She stared at the ceiling without seeing it. “I would like to go to Utah.”

Vulpes bit the inside of his lip. It was risky, and not the kind of risk he liked, where there was a lot to be won. In Utah there was nothing new to win and a lot to lose. If there was a husband tucked away somewhere and they found him, things could get messy fast. A fight to the death, perhaps. Vulpes weighed the odds. He could probably win, especially if he managed to preserve the element of surprise, but possibly not if the husband was a professional sharpshooter like her... give it 70:30, but even if he won, he might lose her love, or even her life, in the process. Making it a lose-lose proposition.

His fear of losing her was so raw he could barely acknowledge it, even to himself. It manifested only as a faint ache in his chest, and a shadow in the back of his mind.

Vienna turned to look at him, and saw the shadow reflected in his eyes. “I still love you,” she whispered. He stared back at her, gripped with jealousy of an imaginary man, and other strange emotions; unable to reply. She traced his features with her fingers, breaking eyecontact to watch them move along his cheekbone. Cass was right. His beard did make him look virile. He looked a little older, but even more impossibly handsome.

Vulpes took a deep breath and made himself go calm. With a willpower forged over 16 years of unsparing discipline, he forced himself to make an offer even as he dreaded its acceptance.  
“We can leave for Utah as soon as you like.” He lay still and maintained an outward appearance of the utmost calm, waiting for her to say when she wanted to leave, which in turn would tell him whether or not Sunday’s wedding was dead in the water.

“Monday. We’ll take a honeymoon there.”

Vulpes gave silent praise to Venus.

He didn’t know what a ‘honeymoon’ was, but it sounded harmless. Maybe something tasty. He decided to let the conversation drop. Tomorrow he could point out that it would take a fair while to get to Utah with her weak leg, and that it was unwise to leave New Vegas unattended, so early in her rule.


	44. Chapter 44

It was after 4am but they were wide awake. Vienna got up to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. As soon as she opened her soundproof bedroom door Carlito’s voice assailed them, a series of high-pitched wails with almost no break between them. It was like an air-raid siren gone mad.

In the kitchen she found Boone, holding Carlito at arm’s length and just looking at him, a stunned expression on his face. Carlito was bellowing so loudly and incessantly that Vienna’s voice was drowned when she tried to ask what was wrong. She had to put her mouth close to Boone’s ear for him to hear her.

“I’ve no idea. He’s been going like this for hours,” was Boone’s barely-audible reply. He looked shell-shocked. Vienna took the baby from him and walked around the room, tried bouncing him up and down and comforting him but nothing helped, Carlito seemed locked into a hysterical scream pattern he couldn’t stop.

“I dunno Craig! Do you want me to get Seth?!” Vienna shouted over the din.  
Boone looked torn for a moment, then nodded. Vienna handed Carlito back and went for Vulpes, relieved to get away for a moment before she lost her hearing.

She reappeared half a minute later with Vulpes, who had put on trousers but was bare-chested. Vulpes went over and took Carlito, held him close to his chest, and softly blew cool air in the baby’s face. Carlito stopped yelling, squinted at Vulpes and took some hiccuppy breaths.

Boone was agape and Vienna was impressed. “How’d you know to do that?” she asked.  
“Seen it done,” replied Vulpes quietly, gently blowing. Carlito was gazing into his eyes, no longer crying but still sobbing when he breathed in.

Vulpes thought back over what else he had observed the women at the Fort doing with upset babies. Sing them something simple and repetitive. He tried to think of what they sang but it didn’t come to him. He substituted a song he knew well, from hearing it uncountable times on Radio New Vegas.

In a velvety tenor voice that took only the adult members of his audience by surprise, he sang,  
  
 _Blue moon_  
 _You saw me standing alone_  
 _Without a dream in my heart_  
 _Without a love of my own_

 _Blue moon_  
 _You knew just what I was there for_  
 _You heard me saying a prayer for_  
 _Someone I really could care for_  
  
Carlito’s eyes were half closed now, though he still sobbed a little when he breathed. Vulpes sang the song again, softer, and the little sleepy eyes were fully closed when he finished. He hummed the refrain as he slowly walked through to where Carlito’s ammo crate bed was, and kept humming as he carefully laid him down in it.

Boone was speechless when Vulpes came back into the kitchen and closed the door. He stared at the ex-legionary as he got himself a glass of water. Vulpes looked mildly back at him over his glass as he drank.

Vienna said, “Well goddamn. I would never, in a million, trillion years, have thought you would have such motherly instincts, Seth.”  
Vulpes eyed her but didn’t reply.  
“Nor such a gorgeous singing voice, although that probably shouldn’t surprise me,” she added.  
Vulpes rinsed his glass and went back to the bedroom. Vienna smiled at Boone, but when he smiled back she suddenly remembered her kinky dream about him and looked down, blushing.

Looking down reminded her that she was wearing her Naughty Nightwear. She could make out her nipples through the lace, and she looked up at Boone again, embarrassed. She caught him appreciating her curves in the slinky outfit, and said, “Hey!”  
“What. You’re wearing it,” said Boone, looking up. He walked over to her and stood close, looking into her eyes. Uncomfortably close. Vienna was about to take a step back when he lifted his hand and smoothed her hair back from her face. His hand paused on the back of her head for an extra second, and Vienna knew for certain that in that moment, if she leaned forward even so much as a quarter of an inch, he would kiss her.

Vienna stepped back. Cass flirting with Seth; Craig flirting with her; scandalous dreams about being taken by both men at once... things were getting out of hand. Good thing they were going to Utah.

When Vienna joined Vulpes in bed, he snuggled close to her, put his arm around her waist and said, “They are fatherly instincts. I hope to use them on our own children one day.”  
“Still on that topic?”  
“Yes.”  
Vienna switched the light out.


	45. Chapter 45

Vulpes lay in the dark, listening to Vienna’s breathing changing as she fell asleep. He tried to go back to sleep, but after a little while gave up and rose quietly, dressing in his merc grunt outfit.

He went up in the lift to the Penthouse suite, thinking he would read for a while from the excellent library up there.

But, when he got there, he was drawn to the windows and the panoramic view of the surrounding territory. It was still pre-dawn outside, the sky not black but an incredible electric blue, millions of stars twinkling over the darkened hills.

_We can take everything._

Vulpes was no longer sure that he wanted everything. More than anything he wanted the Courier’s love and respect. At that moment, everything else seemed immaterial.

Nonetheless, currently he owned pretty much everything he could see, short of the stars themselves. How ironic. Dreams achieved only when they no longer mattered.

The processed air and unnatural humming of the Lucky 38 contrasted unfavourably with the beautiful view, and he wanted to be out there, under the blanket of stars, breathing in the cool night air.

He went back down to the floor where Vienna slept, tiptoed into her room, borrowed That Gun, and snuck out of the suite and out of the building.

Stepping outside the front doors, Vulpes paused and listened carefully. The only sound was the faint whirring of securitrons. There were no drunken gamblers around. 

On the strip, the rubble, shell casings and bodies were all gone. Even the bloodstains were washed away.

The only sign of the minor civil war that had erupted the previous evening was that the facade of the Gomorrah was still smashed in and a group of securitrons were bustling around, painstakingly rebuilding it. No easy task for them as they were principally designed with destruction, not construction, in mind.

Holding his pistol loosely at his side, Vulpes walked out of Vegas and headed north, low hills in the distance ahead of him. Outside the built-up area he started to sprint. When he reached the hills he holstered the gun and climbed the steep terrain till he had a good vantage point from which to survey both Vegas and the sunrise.

He found a comfortable spot to sit and lean back, warm from the run and speed-climb. Moving so fast was an old Legion habit, no longer necessary, but it still felt good. A soft breeze cooled his skin. The sky was already lighter in the east, turning pink and yellow as the sun crept nearer the horizon. Watching the sunrise, he let his mind roam freely.

What would Utah hold? Another Boone, a rival for her heart - one with a prior claim? Vulpes moved his head, to shake out the demons. No. She was a loner, that piece of information had been consistent in the reports. At most there might be a boyfriend, but even if there was, he had been parted from her for too long now to still have a claim. 

No one had come looking for her, saying she was theirs. Vulpes himself had been the first to tell her who she was. And tomorrow, she would marry him. That was an ace of trumps that would beat the hands of any once-boyfriends who might enter the game.

There almost certainly weren’t children of hers there who needed looking after, but if by chance there were, he would simply adopt them. He had been in charge of enough young recruits over the years to know how to take basic care of children. You fed them, trained them all day, and let them sleep from sun down to sun up. Children needed a lot more sleep than adults, he had found.

Like his little brother. The faded memory of him popped unbidden into Vulpes’ mind. He flinched and automatically dismissed it. That was a subject too painful to broach, ever.

Vulpes focused hard on the landscape spread out before him. He saw a dot in the distance that was moving slowly. Maybe a caravan. The banished thought crept back, and knocked at the doors of his mind.  
 _You can think about me now._   
No, I can’t.  
 _You can._  
I don’t think I can. No.

But why not? He didn’t have to be the hard-as-nails legionary anymore, unaffected by any care or feeling. Vulpes took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Yes.

He opened the door, and his little brother Eben, still seven years old, drifted in.

Vulpes tried to see his brother’s features, but the image in his mind was too blurry to make them out. A small boy, very slight in frame, following him around wherever he went.

Vulpes, Seth Dove as he had been then, had allowed his younger brother to follow him and had deputised him, enjoying training him in everything he himself had learnt. He had trained him how to use a gun, and they had shot birds together. They built traps for larger animals, and practised skinning them. They fished in the creek, and Seth had shown his brother how to gut fish, how to sharpen the knife, and use it carefully, always cutting away from himself. 

Eben Dove had idolized Seth and made no secret of it. In return for which, Seth had catastrophically failed to save him from death by order of the Malpais Legate. He had had the chance, and he had tried his best, but his best hadn’t been good enough. He hadn’t been good enough.

He had gone over it so many times in his mind, in the weeks after it happened. He always came to the same conclusion. It was his fault. His mistake wasn’t in his method, or his aim. Shooting was the right thing to do, and he had shot well. It was that he had not chosen the right man to shoot. He hadn’t looked carefully enough, hadn’t noticed the shadowed figure of the Legate, the man really, and in retrospect obviously, in control.

Though only a child himself, Seth had cursed himself as responsible for the death and never forgiven himself, obsessing about it night and day, unable to eat or sleep, till eventually he had banned himself from thinking about it any more.

That was after a month or so as a Legion recruit - that is, slave - by which time, Seth had banned himself from thinking anything at all. Except how to survive.

It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that the likeliest way to survive was to get ahead. So, his meteoric rise began.

When Joshua Graham, the Malpais Legate, had come undone at Boulder City, it was with Vulpes’ underhanded assistance. The Legate had an annoying habit of claiming all the glory for victories that Vulpes had strategised. It was not difficult to subtly suggest to the Legate the disastrous course of action that led to his disgrace, burning and banishment.

That was five years ago. At the time, Vulpes had expected to feel much better once Graham was destroyed. But he hadn’t felt anything at all, beyond a slight sense of _schadenfreude_. There was something else missing, some other action he needed to take to slake his thirst.

Now, as he allowed himself to ponder old memories, Vulpes realised something. He did want to go to Utah. He would find where his village had been, find the bones of his family, and give them a proper burial.

Then he would go to Flagstaff and destroy the Legate Lanius. Perhaps Lanius was calling himself Caesar now. No matter, he was not long for this world. A lot had changed in the passing years.  
Vulpes smiled the smile of a wolf scenting its prey. Now, he was good enough.


	46. Chapter 46

The sun was up over the horizon, and tendrils of light crossed the land. The dot meandering out of Vegas was closer now. It was the shape of a man, walking slowly. Vulpes idly watched him for a while. The distant figure was walking in a wide zigzag pattern, and occasionally bending to pick something up. Probably a scavenger. But there was something familiar about his walk.

Vulpes thought about the Courier. He loved her so much it hurt. Why did she even like him? She liked his touch, his conversation, his cooking, and apparently his singing. Was that enough? Might she fall out from under his spell? They had had such awkward conversations last night.

He resolved to do more to please her. He would renew his efforts to show his affection. When he got back he would wash himself in the scented preparations in the bathroom, kiss her feet, lick her clit till she was in ecstasy, cuddle her the way she liked, and then cook her a good breakfast. If she asked him to sing he would do it. He would do anything. The stakes were high, and he was willing to make any sacrifice to win. He _had_ to win. There was nothing else.

The dot zigzagged closer. Vulpes recognised the walk now. Well well, Craig Boone. What was he coming out here looking for?

It occurred to Vulpes that Boone might be looking for him. Perhaps there was some emergency at the 38 and he was needed. But no, Boone didn’t look in any hurry. He was looking around quite often, but then crouching and picking things up. What was he collecting? Vulpes squinted, trying to make out the small yellowish items Boone was holding.

Boone changed direction again and started getting further away.

Vulpes got up and followed him.

***

Boone picked another broc flower. They were few and far between but he was getting a decent bunch together now. He saw another not too far away and went for it, stooping to pick it.

“Who are you picking wildflowers for, Craig Boone?” The cold voice was right behind him.  
Boone nearly had a heart attack. No one crept up on him, he could hear a pebble fall on its side a kilometre away.  
“Ah, fuck! Fuck, man, don’t do that,” he said, flustered at having been jumped. Him, whose whole speciality was getting the jump on other people.

“Who are they for?” Eyes bright, expression brittle, Vulpes stared down at Boone. He thought he had a fair idea who the flowers were for. His hand rested on the grip of his loaded .223 pistol as he waited for the answer he expected. Boone wasn’t the type to lie outright. Equivocate maybe, but that would give Vulpes his answer just as surely.

He got a different answer.  
“They’re for Aya. Why? Whadda you care?” Boone stood up, feeling miffed. Ambushed and then interrogated.  
“Aya? The wet nurse?” asked Vulpes, not bothering to hide his curiosity.  
“Yeah. What’s your fucking problem, Fox? Why are you following me?”

Vulpes gave Boone an enigmatic smile and walked away. He didn’t mind if Boone thought he was spying on him. It was useful, keep the sniper on his toes. Maybe keep him from trying anything stupid.

Then again, stupid as he might be, Boone knew how to woo women, mused Vulpes as he walked. Carla may have been a whore but she was the prettiest whore at the Gomorrah, and had plenty of suitors, many of them much wealthier than the 1st Recon soldier. Even the Courier herself had all but admitted to having had romantic feelings for him. Boone _had_ something.

Now here he was, out at dawn, picking flowers for a woman. A woman he could probably have with no effort at all. Strange... and interesting.

Vulpes abruptly turned around, and looked for Boone. He had vanished. Then he popped up from behind a rusted out pre-war vehicle some distance to Vulpes’ left, adding another flower to his bouquet.

“Craig!” Vulpes called. It was the first time he had used the man’s given name.  
Boone stared as Vulpes walked back towards him.  
“What,” he said when Vulpes got near.  
Vulpes was stuck for a moment. He had never said “let’s be friends” or anything similar to anyone in his life. He paused, looking at Boone as he searched for the right words. Boone raised one eyebrow.

“I was not following you. I was out for a run and I saw you,” said Vulpes.  
Boone said nothing. They looked at each other for a while, perfectly still. To any onlooker they would have appeared as two statues, but it was dawn and they were alone.  
“I’m sure you understand why to see you picking flowers... bothered me?” tried Vulpes.  
“You thought they were for Kate.”  
“Mm.”

The tiniest ghost of a smile flickered in Boone’s eyes. Oh, this was good. Fox was jealous of him. Nice. He thought about rubbing it in, but then remembered the way Vienna had walked away from him last night in the kitchen. He had offered his interest, and she had declined. And Fox might be a shitbird, but that shitbird had saved his life three days ago in Calville Bay, Boone admitted to himself. Plus, Carlito liked him, and any friend of Carlito’s...  
“Nah. She likes you, Fox,” he said. “Guess she’s yours now. I’m not gonna interfere. Besides, you’re getting married tomorrow, right?”  
“Yes.”

They were silent a while longer. Not everything was resolved yet. Vulpes said, “Let’s forget about what you and Cass saw in the casino.”  
Boone nodded, relieved. “Yeah. Deal.” He stuck his hand out and they shook. “I’m heading back,” he said, nodding his head towards the distant spire of the Lucky 38.  
“Me too,” said Vulpes, and they walked together towards the gates of Freeside. The air between them was clearer, and it felt almost like the easy companionship they had had on the way home from their baby-hunt.

Vulpes turned to Boone as they walked. “I could use your help, if you don’t mind.”  
“For?” Boone was interested. Vulpes never asked for help with anything.

Vulpes had become acutely aware that he was getting married tomorrow and had made no particular preparations. He planned to wear his elegant suit, and the Courier had assured him that her friend The King was going to take care of proceedings - apparently he liked to preside at Vegas weddings - but nothing else had been done.

She might expect a ring, or some other token of love. Or flowers. Maybe he should pick a bunch of flowers himself. If Boone hadn’t just picked them all. Maybe just knock off Boone and take his, ha.

“You got married. What does it involve?”  
Boone let out a gruff laugh. “It involves two things. First, you take your wife home and don’t leave the bedroom for a couple months. Then, you do a lot of dishes. A LOT of dishes.”

Vulpes looked sideways at him and gave a sarcastic smile. “Very droll. I mean, what does the ceremony involve.”  
“It’s just a ceremony. They read out some words, you repeat ‘em. Nothing to it. Why?”  
“I was wondering if I need to get a ring,” said Vulpes, feeling uncomfortable and exposed.  
“Two. You need two rings, one for each. Gold bands, or whatever you can get near to that.”

Pre-war gold jewellery was readily available in the Wasteland, thanks to the drastic reduction of population that had taken place in the war. It was fairly cheap; not many people valued it as adornment anymore, due to the likelihood of being attacked for it by junkies looking to get caps for their next fix. Its antiquated image as valuable was much greater than its actual value to traders. Junkies failed to notice this, as they expected to be ripped off anyway.

Boone said, “Try Mick & Ralph’s. That’s where I got ours.”  
Vulpes nodded. “Thank you.”  
“How come you don’t know about this stuff? Didn’t people get married in the Legion? Or were they all too busy bangin’ each other?” teased Boone.  
“Ha ha,” said Vulpes sounding very bored.  
“No, really.”  
Vulpes rolled his eyes. Boone laughed.

They entered the east gate of Freeside and headed towards Mick & Ralph’s.  
Vulpes said, “Legionaries married, but without rings. It was done by priestesses, and it had to be authorised by superior officers.”  
“So you would need Caesar’s permission? Who’s that now, Lanius?”  
“This isn’t a Legion marriage. But, speaking of Lanius...” Vulpes broke off. It would be useful to have Boone’s help in putting down the Monster of the East; but it was foolish to speak of it to anyone yet. If word got back to Lanius before Vulpes’ arrival, it would make a difficult task that much harder.  
Boone looked at him. Vulpes shrugged, shook his head and opened the door of Mick & Ralph’s.

Ralph wasn’t in, but that didn’t matter as Mick was the man who had jewellery for sale, locked away in his ‘special inventory’ room. He unlocked it and showed them what he had. Boone picked out seven very plain gold bands, and Vulpes tried them on till one fit. He had never worn a ring before and it felt strange on his finger.

Mick recommended that he take a very slightly smaller one for Vienna, but not much smaller because she was “built”, as he put it. He said if it didn’t fit her he could exchange it. Vulpes agreed to come back that afternoon with payment.

While they were there, Boone bought a pale blue ribbon and a box of Fancy Lad Snack Cakes.

“Hey, looking forward to being there tomorrow, Fox,” said Mick as they said goodbye. Apparently Vienna had invited Mick and Ralph. Vulpes had no objection, but he wondered who else she had invited.

They went back to the Lucky 38, and Boone tied the ribbon round the flowers, tucked the box of Fancy Lads under one arm, collected Carlito in the other arm and headed off to see Aya.

Vulpes was impressed. Freshly picked flowers, with a pretty ribbon around them. A gift of sweet cakes to eat together and relax the mood. The man had moves. He decided to watch Boone more closely, to see what else he could learn from him.


	47. Chapter 47

After Boone left, Vulpes’ immediate priority was a bath. It was still early and the Courier wasn’t up yet. Hopefully he could join her in bed. Waiting for the tub to fill, he looked again at the strange preparations on the shelves. He wanted to smell good for her, but not to waste her things, since they were irreplaceable. The nearly-full bottle of _It’s You_ that she had sprayed on him the night they arrived was there, its design a lifesize crystal hand grasping a torch. The hand wore a ring. He took that as an omen and selected it, pressing one small squirt of the perfume into the bathwater. The scent rose up in the steam, evocative of flowers; infinitely more delicate and exotic than Boone’s humble broc flowers. It smelled of the old world, before nuclear bombs changed the molecular structure of every flower in existence - and took most species out of existence.

Boone’s flower-gathering performance had certainly done a fine job of distracting Vulpes’ from his dark meditations up on the hillside, and after that, thinking about wedding rings and observing Boone’s surprising skill with courting had kept his mind on lighter things. 

Now, in the bath surrounded by silence, his mind was drawn back to his unfinished thoughts. Grievous memories he had decided to allow himself to recall, after having buried them so deep, for so long.

Eben. The most devoted, loyal little brother anyone ever had. Eben would have done anything for him. He would be 23 years old now, if he were alive. He should be. He had been executed for nothing, no good reason at all.

Capable children and young adults were normally assimilated into the army as slaves and recruits when the Legion swept through areas. Only the weak were killed. Whole tribes were usually only destroyed for political reasons, a warning to a more important tribe nearby for instance. There had been no such reason to kill Vulpes’ whole tribe. He had found out much later that the reason was simpler; there had been an acute food shortage that season and the Legate didn’t want more mouths to be unable to feed.

The shortage only lasted one season. It was stark bad luck for the Dove family that their settlement had been directly in the Legion’s path at precisely that time.

Vulpes washed his hair and face, washed the sweat and dust off his body. He wondered momentarily what it would be like if his brother was alive. A true friend in the world, back-up he could always trust, someone who knew and understood him completely. He sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. No, it was futile to daydream on lost possibilities. Move on. Sons. A family of his own. That, he still had a chance at.

Climbing out of the bath, he stood naked at the mirror and trimmed the edges of his 10-day old beard. It was part of his new image. He had never grown a beard before, or at least not deliberately. Vulpes Inculta and Mr Fox were always clean shaven; even on campaign, he had kept a straight razor in his pack and shaved every morning. Mr Seth Dove, by contrast, was bearded. Not a long, shaggy beard of course. Short and tidy. He was still the same man, after all.

Cass came into the bathroom with her eyes half closed and went to pee noisily in the toilet.  
“Hey, sorry about whatever,” she mumbled, coming to stand next to him at the handbasin, spending less than a second washing her hands. Vulpes eyed her in the mirror. She paused behind him on her way out. “Nice ass,” she observed, and left.

Vulpes blinked. Why would a woman take notice of a man’s posterior? Surely the only things they should appreciate were on the other side. Rose of Sharon Cassidy. Somewhat strange name, very strange woman.

He dressed and went to the bedroom. Vienna was in bed, asleep. He took the ring he had gotten for her and went over to sit next to her and kiss her awake. Being her, she didn’t wake up. He kissed her hair, then her ears, her eyes and finally her mouth. She slept on.

Vulpes had an idea. He would serenade her. He remembered a song Lucius used to sing, quietly but often, whenever the older man was cleaning his armour and weapons. It was a rather sweet love song, not Legionlike at all, and Vulpes had often wondered if Lucius was even aware he was singing out loud.  
He stroked Vienna’s hair and sang very softly,  
  
 _Someone broke into my heart and stole a beat or two_  
 _The finger of suspicion points at you_

_Someone took away my sleep and never left a clue_  
 _The finger of suspicion points at you_

_Just as soon as they can make the guilty one confess_  
 _I know exactly what I'm gonna do_  
 _I'll take her, lock her charms_  
 _Forever in my arms_

_And who is bound to be the guilty, who?_  
 _The finger of suspicion points at you_  
  
Vienna was looking at him now, smiling. She sat up, rested her forehead against his, and kissed him.  
“What a nice way to wake up. Thank you.” She kissed him again. “Your voice is something else, Seth. You could’ve had a career as a Vegas crooner,” she smiled.  
“Don’t be silly,” Vulpes snorted. Then he smiled too. “I have something for you.” He brought out the ring.  
Vienna took it and looked at it in wonder. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

Vulpes wondered if Boone had led him astray, just to mess with him. If so, he would have to administer a painful revenge. Yet, Mick at the shop hadn’t thought it strange. “Why not?”  
“Just seems a little... quaint and romantic for you. Not that I’m complaining, it’s lovely of you,” she added, trying it on. 

Vulpes watched her uncertainly, trying to work out if ‘quaint and romantic’ were good qualities or bad, in her book. They didn’t sound particularly good to him. But she seemed pleased, holding her hand this way and that to admire the ring. Mick had a good eye, it fitted well.  
She looked up at him and said softly, “What a honey you are. Thank you.” Her eyes shone warmly.

Vulpes stood and stripped his clothes off. Keeping his eyes on hers, he pulled the bedcovers off her body, which was still clad in the Naughty Nightwear, and climbed on top of her, pushing the lacy chemise up over her breasts.

“Mmm... you smell sublime,” she purred appreciatively, lifting her head to sniff and kiss him.  
“ _It’s You,_ ” murmured Vulpes. He nuzzled her neck and bit gently on her earlobe.

They made love, and afterwards lay in a close embrace, looking into each other’s eyes and whispering tributes to each other. Vulpes felt so relaxed he thought he might melt into a puddle. His grip on her gradually released as he fell into a deep sleep. Vienna slipped out of bed, dressed quietly, and headed off to find some breakfast.

***

Vulpes woke up a couple of hours later, feeling incredibly good. He felt relaxed, clear-headed, and full of energy. Better than he could ever remember feeling. He went to get breakfast, and found the suite deserted, a note resting on the kitchen table which read:  
S.  
GONE TO TOPS W C&R, BACK SOON.  
K. 

He made some toast, took a bite, and was about to take a second when Yes Man’s voice crackled to life.  
“Excuse me!”  
Vulpes instinctively looked around, wondering who Yes Man was talking to. Yes Man never usually spoke to anyone except Kate.  
“Mr Dove sir!”  
“Yes?” he answered in a voice barely above a whisper. It was unnerving having a conversation with a machine.  
“There’s a fellow outside wants to see you!” said Yes Man enthusiastically.  
“Being?”  
“He says his name is Alerio!”  
“Let him in.”  
“No can do without the boss’ permission, and she’s not in, sir, sorry ‘bout that!”  
Vulpes took the second bite, put down the rest of the slice and stood up. “Tell him I will be down directly.”  
“You betcha!”

Outside, Alerio was nowhere to be seen, but Vulpes knew where he would be. He went around the northwest side of the casino where the carcass of a burnt-out bus lay on its side. Alerio was leaning against the back of it.

Alerio saw him approach and looked carefully around out of habit. No one was watching them but a crow perching on razor wire nearby. “Salve, Vulpes Inculta. Quid agis?” he said quietly, saluting.  
“Salve Alerio. Valeo, et tu?”  
“Optime quoque.” Alerio nodded, unsmiling.

They conversed in Latin for a couple of minutes. They didn’t need longer, as Alerio by nature was very succinct. By the end of the conversation, Vulpes had received news that made his plan to assassinate Lanius in Flagstaff, hatched only hours ago, already obsolete.

Lanius was marching toward New Vegas, with a host of 960 men.


	48. Chapter 48

Vienna was just leaving the Tops casino with Veronica and Manny, having installed Cass and Raul in a suite there and booked another for Aya, when Swank came out of his office and caught up with her, wanting a word.

It turned out he wanted to apologise on behalf of the entire male gender for Nero’s rudeness the evening before.

Vienna smiled at him. “Oh Swank. Thanks, but don’t worry about it, I’m no stranger to people giving me that kind of shit. Men do, even women do, you’d be surprised. Anyway, the Omertas were already going down. All Nero did was make an easy job even easier.” She moved off towards the door, but Swank touched her shoulder.  
Leaning in, he said earnestly, “Doll, don’t blast holes in me for sayin’ this... I mean, really, please don’t, but uh, your new squeeze? He’s one dangerous cat.”  
“Yes,” Vienna smiled winningly at the Chairman.  
Swank’s brow knitted. “Bein’ honest, the guy gives me the heebie-jeebies.”  
“You have a problem with him?” Vienna’s smile dropped.  
Swank nearly fell over himself to assure her he had no problem, no problem at all, adding, “I’m just sayin’, you oughta take care of yourself around him, Vienna. For your sake. He don’t play with the full deck, if you dig.”  
“Bye, Swank.”  
“Take care of yourself, pretty baby,” Swank repeated the warning as she disappeared through the doors.

At the Old Mormon Fort, Dr Julie Farkas had started a conversation on the same topic with Boone. Boone was reluctant to engage, but Julie had him cornered, leaning in the doorway of the upstairs room he and Aya and Carlito were eating snack cakes in.  
“Are you seriously telling me,” said Julie, placing emphasis on each word, “That Vienna is stupid enough to let Vulpes fucking Inculta live in the Lucky 38, and take control of New Vegas, and by extension, Freeside?” she gestured all around. “Not to mention the whole fucking Mojave?”

Boone had said no such thing. So far Julie had done all the talking. He covered Carlito’s ears, as a hint to Julie to tone her language down.  
“ _Seriously?_ She busted up the Legion, just to let the Legion’s best worst-fucking-nightmare of a man waltz in to Vegas, and start pressing buttons?” Julie was so incensed her face was becoming blotched.  
Boone glanced at Aya and stood up. “Talk about it outside,” he said, pushing past Dr Farkas and walking down the stairs and out into the hot sunshine.

“You shouldn’t talk like that around children,” he said when Julie joined him. Julie started blustering again but Boone silenced her. “Shut up.” He said it quietly but Julie shut up.

Boone spoke slowly. “I’m taking Aya and Carlito to live at the Tops. Carlito got kidnapped by Omertas right under your nose so they aren’t safe here.”  
Julie opened her mouth to say something but Boone said, “Shut up. I appreciate that you’ve been looking after them. I’ll help you out any way I can. But I don’t wanna hear any more bullshit about Vienna, or her choice of guy. You got a problem with it, take it up with her.” He stared at Julie, till Julie looked away.  
“Fine,” she said, but she didn’t sound like anything was fine. She walked away, and Boone went back to Aya, collected her and Carlito, and left the compound to head towards the Lucky 38.

***

At the Lucky 38, Yes Man refused to let Aya in because she was a stranger and the boss wasn’t there to give her the OK, but he did agree to tell Boone where Vienna had gone. They headed off towards the Tops to find her.

Vulpes was passing the Tops on his way to Vault 21 with Alerio, who had made a radio recording he said Vulpes needed to hear. No description of it could do it full justice, Alerio said.

They were walking separately, Alerio some distance ahead. As Vulpes passed the casino, the doors opened and Vienna, Manny and Veronica came out, laughing. They saw Vulpes and came over to meet him. Alerio noticed but kept walking and Vulpes did not call to him.

“Oh Foxxy, you are one ‘dangerous cat’. Rawr!” Veronica mock-raked him with her fingernails. She had that silly smile he didn’t like on her. Vulpes looked at Vienna, who was also smiling.  
“She’s just remarking on how everyone in this town loves you, my dear,” Vienna said lightly, kissing his cheek.

Vulpes had no idea why they were behaving so foolishly but he had no time for frivolities. His immediate priority was to find out as much as he could about Lanius’ invasion plans, and start making plans of his own. He made a little salute to Vienna and started to walk away after Alerio.

“Wait a sec!” called Vienna. “Where ya going?”  
Vulpes turned but kept walking away, backwards. “Come with me if you like,” he replied.  
Vienna hesitated. Veronica said to her, “You can, but I’m off to see Emily.” She waved and went off in the opposite direction.

At that moment Boone appeared in the distance, carrying Carlito and with a woman in tow, and called out to Vienna.

Vulpes was getting further away. “Come with me,” he said again.  
“Just gimme one minute,” Vienna said over her shoulder, jogging towards Boone.

Boone introduced her to Aya, who was very shy and could not quite meet Vienna’s eye. Vienna hurriedly told them she had reserved a room for Aya and Carlito at the Tops, and gave them the key. Manny stayed behind with Boone, who headed into the Tops, and Vienna ran back towards Vulpes, who hadn’t stopped moving and was disappearing into the faded green door of the Vault 21 gift shop.

When Vienna entered the gift shop, Vulpes was nowhere to be seen. Sarah Weintraub, the proprietor, was there though, and nervously told Vienna which room the men had gone to. Sarah had been told very strictly by Alerio that she was not to give such information to anyone, ever, but she thought maybe it would be ok to make an exception for Vienna.

The damned vault was a maze. Vienna got lost a few times before she located the right corridor. When she found Alerio’s door she knocked, but there was no response. She said, “Hello?”

Inside, Alerio was whispering to Vulpes that it was not a good idea to let Vienna be present for what he was about to show him. Nevertheless Vulpes walked to the door and opened it, just as Vienna was about to knock again. She stepped in the room and into an embrace from Vulpes. He kissed her ear and murmured, “Something’s happening.”

He introduced her to Alerio, who shook her hand stiffly. Sitting down next to her on the bed, Vulpes said, “Ok, let’s hear it.”

Alerio looked slightly uncomfortable. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, and didn’t make any move towards his recording equipment. Vulpes looked at him, and he looked back, rubbing his nose again. Vulpes’ eyes narrowed. Alerio looked away and rubbed his nose again. Vulpes suddenly recalled that this was a signal, one of many gestures used by Frumentarii to communicate specific meanings to other Frumentarii whilst in the presence of the dissolute. This one meant _Enemies are listening_.

“Qui?” asked Vulpes. _Who?_ Alerio looked at Vienna, paused, then offered her a cold drink, which she accepted.  
Vulpes said, still in Latin, _You can trust her_. Alerio shook his head slightly, not looking at Vulpes as he made the drink.  
 _You can, it’s alright_.  
Alerio gave the drink to Vienna and sat down, looking at Vulpes. He said, _It is not a matter of trust. You will not want her to hear this. The Legate does not restrain his words._  
She’s tough, thought Vulpes. _Play it_ , he said.

Alerio went to the radio apparatus that was set up on a card table, plugged into an aerial socket in the wall. He had a recording device that could record the radio, and play it back. He said in English, “I scan the radiowaves at least every eight hours. At midnight last night it wasn’t there. At 8 am this morning it was, playing on a continuous loop. I made a recording. I don’t know if it’s still on the radio. Let’s see.” He flicked the radio on and strange, strangulated, animalistic screams and grunts blared out, followed by loud static. After six seconds the static died down and Lanius’ unmistakeable bass voice filled the room.

“Vulpes Inculta!” Lanius shouted. Speaking in Latin, he then gave a warning, that he was on his way to take and destroy New Vegas, with two full cohorts of veterans. His best men, he claimed. He vowed to crucify every man, rape and disembowel every woman and crush underfoot every child he found in and around the city.

After a short pause he then started to speak in English. It soon became plain why. This section was dedicated to Vienna. He promised to keep her alive, as his own personal plaything. He said he would rape her all day and all night, before all his men, lubricated with her blood. He said that he would put a handgrenade inside her, attach a string to the pin and lead her around with it. He said that if she got thirsty she could drink his piss.

While Lanius was talking, Alerio kept his eyes on the radio and his face neutral. Vulpes kept his expression blank too, but as the list of tortures Lanius fantasized for Vienna went on, his blood began to boil.

Lanius ended the litany, thundering, “That is what I will do to your bitch wife, Vulpes Inculta!”  
He switched back into Latin and offered a deal. If Vulpes handed himself and Vienna over peacefully, he would let Vulpes go free. He would even offer him his old job back. He swore it as an oath. Vienna would not go free, only Vulpes. _You cannot save her_ , Lanius said. _But you have an opportunity to save yourself. Consider it carefully._

Then he said in English, “Here is my love song to you, Vienna of New Vegas, soon to be my slave.”

There was a pause and then music started to play. The singer had a frightening, insane-sounding growl, and screamed, groaned and cackled hysterically in between lines.  
  


_I put a spell on you, because you’re mine_   
_Stop the things you do, I ain’t lyin’, yeah_   
_I CAN’T STAND no runnin’ around_   
_I can’t stand no puttin’ me down_   
_I put a spell on you, because you’re MINE!_

_Stop the things you do, I ain’t lyin’_  
 _I love YOU!_  
 _I love YOU!_  
 _I love YOU!_  
 _Anyhow, I don’t care if you don’t want me_  
 _I’m yours right now_  
 _I put a spell on you, because you’re MINE!_  
 _MINE!_  
 _MINE!_  
  
The song ended with grunts and shrieks, the same ones they had heard at the beginning when Alerio had switched the radio on. There was static for a few seconds, then the message began to play again. “Vulpes Inculta!” Lanius shouted. Alerio switched it off.

No one spoke for a full minute. Then Vienna said, “Nice touch, with the song. I wonder where he got that from.”  
Vulpes was too angry to speak, but he felt relief at her words. She was tough, alright.  
Alerio answered her, “Flagstaff has a pre-war library that was mostly destroyed, but still had a locked basement when the Legion took the city. Inside the basement was a small collection of music and films. Caesar ordered the films to be destroyed, but officers were allowed to listen to the music in the evenings. I imagine it is from that collection.”

Different music to what Mr New Vegas had. At any other time Vienna would have been excited, and suggested a field trip there to check it out. But now wasn’t really the time.

“What did he say, in Latin? Is he coming here?” she asked. No one answered her. Alerio was watching Vulpes, and Vulpes was staring into space, deep in thought.

“How does he know that I am here. And how does he know that we are to marry.” Vulpes wasn’t asking, just thinking aloud. “Someone in New Vegas is feeding him information by radio. We have only been here a few days, not enough time for a messenger to get to Flagstaff.”  
Alerio said, “Your affair with the Courier is all anyone is talking of right now, and there are plenty of ex-Legion men roaming the city. Perhaps one of them is still loyal to Lanius. But if that is so, then they must also be aware of me, as I have not heard any radio communications, and I’ve been listening. Which makes me think that whoever it is, is watching the Vault, and makes their communications when they see me leave.”  
“Hmm,” said Vulpes.

Alerio went on, “It is certainly Lanius’ voice, but that does not mean that what he says is true. He may not be on his way, or he may be with considerably more, or fewer, men.”

Vulpes nodded, thinking it over. Lanius had probably still got 960 men left from the full Legion strength of close to 5000. That was plausible. And it was equally plausible that they would be veterans. Deserters were usually lower ranked men, less dedicated.  
“He may have more men, I doubt that he has less. I also doubt that he is lying about coming. That would not be like him,” he said.  
“Do you think he’s lying about having a big ole’ crush on me?” said Vienna, forcing a smile.  
Vulpes said shortly, “No.” There was another long silence.

Vienna got sick of waiting, and said, “Come on. What is going on? What did he say?”  
Alerio still ignored her, and Vulpes was staring at the radio as though he expected it to come to life. Eventually he spoke.  
“He said that he is on his way to destroy New Vegas and kill everyone here. He claims to have an army of 960 experienced, well-armed men with him. And you heard the part about you.”

He didn’t mention the deal Lanius had offered, not because he was considering taking it, but because he didn’t want her to worry about it. There was no deal, really. The Monster of the East and Vulpes Inculta were old enemies. Lanius would have no intention of giving him his old job back. If he accepted, and handed himself over, he would not go free either. Lanius would decapitate him in the blink of an eye. Of that, Vulpes was certain.


	49. Chapter 49

Vulpes silently cursed himself. He had known this would happen sooner or later, but not expected it so soon as this. He should have begun preparations the very second he arrived in New Vegas. Lanius was doing exactly what Vulpes would have advised him to... meaning he was receiving good information from someone in New Vegas. He knew about Vulpes. He knew about the Courier. And he must know that the NCR had abandoned Camp McCarran and most of their other large bases, leaving the greater New Vegas area defended only by robots.

He studied Alerio. To function as a double agent was child’s play to a Frumentarius, but still, if that was Alerio’s game it was a bold move, putting himself so obviously under suspicion. There was no point confronting Alerio about it, he was too well trained. Torture was no use either; irrespective of the subject’s training, Vulpes had observed over the years that torture did not result in good information. When being tortured, people would swear to absolutely anything, whatever they thought most likely to bring the torture to an end with their own lives intact. More often than not, it was untrue.

“When you see the men of the Legion marching in victoriously, under the red flag of the bull, will you keep your allegiance to me?” Vulpes asked, pretending to be joking, but watching Alerio’s reaction. There was none. Alerio had a poker face worthy of New Vegas’ best card sharks.  
“Yes,” said Alerio. Even his voice was bland.  
“If you are captured by Lanius you may do whatever you need to save yourself, I would not begrudge it.”  
Alerio said slowly, “If I were to be captured by Lanius there would be no point in changing my allegiance.” He looked pointedly at Vulpes, a small smile playing on his face now. “He is not one for clemency.”

Vulpes nodded, understanding this as a caution to him against accepting the Legate’s offer. There was no need, but he appreciated the gesture. He decided to give Alerio the benefit of the doubt for the time being, but not trust him with anything too important until events unfolded enough to prove his loyalty.

Next to him, Vienna was feeling more and more vexed, as the meaning of Lanius’ words sank in. She had not known why they were going to Alerio’s room, and had been taken by complete surprise at the content of the radio message. The news of Lanius’ imminent arrival with a large army was dismaying. The specific threats against her were nauseating.

“You got anything else to add?” she asked Alerio. “Cos I gotta get back and talk to Yes Man _tout suite_.”  
Alerio replied, “That is all I know, so far.”  
Vienna stood up to go. Vulpes stood up too, but before they’d taken a step someone knocked on the door. They all looked at each other. Alerio went over to look through the peephole.

It was Sarah Weintraub, holding a tray with four glasses of brahmin milk and a plate of things that looked like uneven, oddly-coloured Fancy Lads Snack Cakes.  
“I made these myself!” she said brightly, coming in and setting the tray down.  
“Um, Sarah, it’s really sweet of you, but we have to go,” said Vienna. The idea of merrily chomping on cookies and milk after having just been threatened with rape and torture was not appealing.

Sarah looked crestfallen. “Oh. Ok then. It’s just... I haven’t seen you much lately Vienna, so I was kinda hoping we could have a little fun... you know, like double-dating... never mind, it’s ok.” She sat down, looking so disappointed that Vienna nearly stayed, but Vulpes took Vienna’s hand and pulled her away to the door.  
“It is very generous of you, Miss Weintraub, but I’m afraid the Courier is right, we cannot stay,” he said, bowing slightly as he backed out, pushing Vienna behind him.

“Double-dating?” asked Vienna when they were back out on the Strip.  
“I have no idea what that is either,” Vulpes said absently, looking carefully around, assessing where Alerio’s watcher could be holed up, if he existed. Someone staying across the road in the Ultra-Luxe would have a good view. The only other possibility would be someone in the NCR Embassy, and that didn’t seem likely. Or maybe... maybe it was Sarah Weintraub herself.  
“It means two couples going out together. Just surprised she suggested it. I guess she and your friend must be an item.”  
“Mm.” Vulpes started walking fast towards the Lucky 38.

People stared openly at them, turning as they passed by. Groups of gamblers pointed and whispered to each other. Everyone seemed to recognise the Courier, with her distinctively long, shiny hair. Not many Wastelanders had access to _Harmony Hair Beautifier_ , after all.

Vulpes pondered cutting Vienna’s hair off while she slept, for her own protection. He would miss it; probably even more than she would, since she preferred keeping it tied back and out of the way. But it would grow back... and right now it was not safe to be so instantly recognisable.

“That’s good. I always thought Sarah seemed lonely. Is your friend a nice guy?” Vienna rambled on, trying to keep her mind off the Legate’s hideous prophecies. It wasn’t working very well.  
Vulpes considered it briefly. “Hard to say. I’ve never seen him with a woman.”

He wished he could say the same of Lanius. Vulpes had seen Lanius with all too many women. Pictures flashed through his mind of mangled bodies, dumped outside the Legate’s tent, hurriedly cleared away by slave women biting their lips to stop themselves shrieking, shaking their heads to blur their vision, fumbling in their panic to get away lest the Monster’s eye fall on them.

He knew Lanius was not exaggerating about what he would do to the Courier. He had seen him do terrible things with slaves, but even worse was what he did to important women in the tribes they conquered. Lanius described it as “teaching a lesson”, but it was nothing like that. Lessons were stringing a thief up on a cross, or shooting a syphilitic harlot in the head and burning the body. Lessons were performed for useful purposes. The atrocities Lanius committed were something else entirely. No torture was too revolting, no humiliation too obscene. Where females were concerned, the Legate was a man full of imagination, and empty of morality.

Guessing from his darkened face what Vulpes was thinking about, Vienna said, “That thing about the handgrenade was bullshit.”  
“Maybe.”  
“If he’s gonna do that then he’ll have trouble ‘raping me day and night’, huh? He can’t do both.”  
Vulpes looked sideways at her. She was actually trying to cheer _him_ up about it. He felt a rush of love for her, quickly followed by a sense of desperation. He had to protect her. If he failed...  
“There are other ways,” he said, and immediately regretted it. He gritted his teeth, trying to prevent his mind visualising but the spectre pushed its way in front of him. His blood began to surge loudly between his ears.

_Don’t think about that,_ he told himself. _Stop, stop. It’s what Lanius wants, to throw you off balance, to make you so crazy you can’t think straight._ Sage advice, but he couldn’t control it. Images flowed through his mind, despoiled bodies with Kate’s face superimposed on them.

They reached the doors of the Lucky 38 and went inside. As soon as the doors closed behind them Vulpes wrapped his arms around Vienna’s torso and squeezed her so tightly she could not breathe. Just when she thought a rib would crack, his hold released. He grasped her loosely plaited hair and unfastened it, working the strands loose with fast, precise movements.  
“Are you ok?” Vienna asked softly.  
Vulpes freed her hair and, taking her in a bearhug again, buried his face in it, inhaling deeply.  
“Promise me something,” he whispered.  
Vienna was about to say ‘anything’, then felt a sense of foreboding and changed her mind. “What?”  
“If lead turns to shit you will not hesitate to sacrifice my life to save your own.”  
“I think I might hesitate to do that.” Vienna smiled gently, pushing him back a little and taking both his hands in hers. “Don’t worry about me,” she said, feigning a confident air.  
He stared at her. “Promise me.”  
“It won’t come to that. We can beat him.”  
“Mm. Promise me.”  
“I can’t make that promise.”  
“Kate. You _cannot_ hesitate. Promise me!” Vulpes squeezed her hands very hard.  
She sighed. “Ok.” He crushed her hands harder. “I promise,” she added, with her five-star honest face on.

She had no intention of doing it. If they went down, they’d go together; but she didn’t want to hang about by the doors forever, getting the bones of her hands slowly dislocated.

He let her go, and they got into the lift. Vulpes’ expression, habitually sober, was now so deadly serious that he looked like a man possessed. His pale eyes glittered in the artificial light, his lips just a line.  
“I will throw you to the dogs!” Vienna joked, pointing a finger at him and poking his cheek, in an effort to lighten the mood.  
No reaction.

Vulpes was feeling almost ill, an unfamiliar emotion engulfing him. It was fear.

He never felt fear before battles, to him planning war was a purely enjoyable task, he got a thrill from the anticipation of enacting his plans. This was different. Now, he was on the back foot. And worse, much worse than that, for the first time since he was a child he had something to lose beyond his own life. It made him feel like the ground was being sucked away from under his feet.

“I had a brother,” he started, and stopped. Vienna looked at him, waiting. The elevator arrived at the 22nd floor and dinged as the doors opened. Vienna stepped out of the lift, then back in when she saw he wasn’t coming.

Vulpes thought he might fall to the bottom of the lift shaft, heart first. He stood still, staring through the floor.  
“I let him die.”  
Vienna caught her breath. Vulpes had never spoken of this before.  
“Not deliberately,” she murmured. Surely.  
Vulpes shook his head a millionth of an inch.

They stood there, in the open elevator, this time Vienna giving the tight hug. Vulpes allowed it, but didn’t hug back. He felt he didn’t deserve it. He had no right to seek comfort for what he had let happen, and what might happen again.

Vulpes was perfectly still, but his blood was rushing so violently in his veins he thought he must be trembling. He tried to empty his mind, and be yet more still. Be stone. Heart, back on ice. _Control_.

Kate stroked the back of his head and pressed her lips to his neck, feeling his pulse beating strongly. She didn’t know what to say about his brother. “I love you,” she whispered.

Vulpes couldn’t reply, not without risking tears escaping his eyes, and he couldn’t let her see him so weak as that, not now. She needed him strong. War was coming. He had to lose the fear.

They stood that way for what felt like a long time, but it was less than a minute before Yes Man interrupted.  
“Welcome home, boss! Mr Boone is outside and wants permission to let his lady friend in!”  
“That’s fine,” said Vienna, still holding Vulpes. He broke away and pulled her into the bedroom.

***

Boone arrived at the Presidential Suite to find Vienna’s bedroom door closed and no one else home. He didn’t knock on her door. She knew he was there, and she’d come out if she wanted to. Probably too busy having sex to answer anyway.

Inside the bedroom, sex was far from the agenda. Vulpes was leaning against the back of the door, eyes closed. Vienna stood in front of him, waiting for him to recover from whatever was the matter, or at least explain. Without opening his eyes, he slid down to sit on the floor, and put his head between his knees and his arms over his head.

Vienna chewed her lip, at a loss for what to do. What was wrong with him? She remembered seeing him like this before once, at the safehouse. After she had screamed at him. On that occasion, as far as she knew, it was guilt and remorse that were eating him, and misery at her refusal to forgive him.

She knelt down beside him, and caressed his tensed shoulders with a cool hand, scratching lightly down his spine with her nails in a way that he usually liked.

Half to herself, she murmured, “The Legate is coming, but I don’t think you’re afraid of him. He’s being a total fuckhead, nothing new there. We’ve probably got enough securitrons to trounce him and his crappy army anyway... but you’re still upset, because something about this situation reminded you of your brother.”  
She stroked the Vulpes-shaped inanimate object next to her and thought about what he had said in the lift.  
“You think you fucked up and let your brother die. Maybe you think you’ll fuck up and let me die this time. Is that it?”  
Vulpes raised his head and rested his chin on his arms, staring forward at nothing. After a while he turned his head to look at her. Vienna waited but he said nothing.

She kissed his shoulder. “Seth, if that’s what’s wrong, you don’t have to worry. I won’t die. I never die. I got shot in the head and buried and I didn’t die.” She kissed him again. “And you shot me and I didn’t die.” Another kiss. “Sure, one day I’ll go, but when it happens, however it happens, it’ll be my fault, not yours.”  
“It will be my fault. I brought this on,” said Vulpes.  
“Why do you think that?”  
His answer made no sense to her. “I thought about my family this morning.”  
She made a little gesture meaning _and?_  
“The first Legate killed my whole family. I have not thought about it since that time. Until this morning. I thought it would be ok... to remember them now. I decided to go to Flagstaff, and kill Lanius.”

Vienna pursed her lips. It still wasn’t making sense. She said slowly, “You think that you deciding to kill Lanius somehow triggered Lanius deciding to come here and kill us first? And you think that because the first Legate succeeded in killing the people you loved, and you dared to think about them this morning, that this Legate is somehow predestined to have the same success? Is that what you mean?” She looked at him quizzically. If that was his thought process, it was bizarre. 

“It sounds insane when you say it,” Vulpes tried to smile.  
“It is insane. Look, firstly, whatever happened when you were ten, for pity’s sake you were _ten_. Just a little kid. Nothing that happened was your fault, Seth. It’s adults’ job to protect children, not the other way around. Secondly,” she started counting the points off on her fingers, “Lanius is not telepathic, he’s not magical, he’s just a psycho with a big sword, a fancy mask and a bunch of slavering sycophants. He doesn’t know what you thought about this morning. He’s coming because he thinks the city is weak now that the NCR have packed up. Hah. Let him come! Cos thirdly, we can kill him, and fourthly, we _will_ kill him. Ok?”  
Vulpes nodded, feeling a lot better. His blood had stopped its wild rushing, and the vertigo had faded. He tried another smile, and it sort of worked. Vienna gave him a thousand-watt smile in return. Cheering him up had oddly had the effect of cheering herself up. She felt fine, not worried about Lanius and his idiotic fantasies anymore. She was looking forward to the kill.

That mask was going to look good, mounted on the billiards room wall.

Still smiling, she said, “Listen. I can shoot four men dead in less than a second. You’ve seen me do it.”  
“Yes.”  
“So at four men a second, I can kill 240 men a minute. Lanius has got, what, 960 men he says? That’ll take me precisely four minutes.”  
“You’ll kill the entire army in four minutes.”  
“Yup. Not including reload time, of course.”  
Vulpes said nothing, then he smiled, then he laughed. It was ridiculous, but she was doing her best to make him feel better and he adored her for it.

He got up and took her hand, pulling her up after him.  
“I’m sorry,” he said. He felt ashamed. Displaying such weakness, in front of his woman, as though he were scared of Lanius’ threats. He was scared, but it was not that. He was afraid of the fates. He had damned himself, and for a little while it had seemed as if the curse was coming full circle.  
“Don’t worry about it. We’re all entitled to freak out now and again. Even you.” Still holding his hand, she kissed each knuckle.

Vienna thought about the men she loved, Seth and Craig. For military men, hard and lethal, champions in their sphere, they were amazingly emotional sometimes. She wondered if this was common to men of their ilk. Probably not. More likely she was just attracted to that type of personality. Men with hard shells and opaque depths, who secretly believed they were cursed. Great.

“You are not cursed,” she said firmly, experiencing déjà vu. She had said the exact same thing to Craig once.  
“I’m sorry,” Vulpes said again. He felt like punching himself. Idiot. Losing control like that. _Idiot_.  
Vienna said, “It’s forgotten.”

But it wasn’t forgotten. Vienna looked at him and could see his frustration. Not good enough, they had a lot to do and she needed him at the top of his game. Without warning she slapped him hard and he stepped back, eyes wide.  
“Better now?” she asked, grinning. She moved in as if to hug him and slapped his other cheek, hard enough to make him stagger sideways, grunting in surprise.  
“Yes?”  
“Yes,” he responded, stepping out of her range, his expression of incredulity morphing into a rueful laugh, but the frustration in his eyes gone. “Ha. Thanks.”

Vienna opened the bedroom door and stepped out. She was all business now. There was no more time for personal problems. Yes Man needed instructions, Boone and the others needed to be filled in.

Boone, hearing her door open, came out of the kitchen to meet her, Aya trailing shyly behind him. He wanted to thank Vienna for getting Aya and Carlito the Presidential Suite at the Tops. It was really, really nice. Cass and Raul had Benny’s suite, but the Presidential Suite was nicer.

“Hey, me and Aya wanted to thank you, Kate,” Boone started to say.  
“No problemo,” interrupted Vienna carelessly. “We need to bring Craig in on this,” she glanced at Vulpes.  
Boone said, “On what?”  
Vulpes grunted in assent, rubbing his cheeks to get rid of the handprints.  
Vienna went into full boss-mode. “Go back to the Tops, drop off Aya, pick up Cass and Raul, find Manny wherever he is, then go to the Followers and get Veronica. Only her, don’t bring Emily. Group meeting, pronto. Attendance compulsory,” she ordered.  
“What’s going on?”  
“I’ll tell you when you get back but it’s top-fucking-level serious, and time matters. If you can’t find Manny forget him and go for Vero. Aya, stay in Vegas, don’t go to Freeside. Leave Carlito here. Go. Fast.”

Boone’s brow knitted but he obeyed her instructions, handing Carlito to Vulpes and shepherding Aya back into the elevator. As soon as he left, Vienna started shouting at Yes Man.


	50. Chapter 50

Boone didn’t do exactly what Vienna told him. He went to Freeside first, because Aya needed to collect the other two babies that she cared for, and he picked up Veronica from Emily’s tent while they were there.

Veronica was annoyed to be conscripted back to base so soon, especially since she hadn’t seen Emily since the day before yesterday. She was even more annoyed when Boone said Emily couldn’t tag along. Eventually Boone was forced to explain that Emily was explicitly not invited, by order of the boss.  
“The boss, or the boss’s boss,” said Emily darkly.  
“It’s not like that.”  
“What is it then?” queried Veronica.  
“Something’s up,” was the best Boone could offer.  
“Something’s up her ass,” muttered Emily. Boone’s chin came up fast and she quickly backpedaled. “Fine. You go, have your super-important scout meeting. I’ll be here when you finish.” She pushed Veronica out of the tent. Best not to aggravate Craig Boone. He was not quite all there.  
Veronica went, and they headed back towards the Strip.

Boone stopped at Mick & Ralph’s to pick up food and other supplies for Aya’s new accommodation. This time only Ralph was in.  
“Oh yeah, Mick told me to expect Fox down here with payment for some rings. He coming, or?” asked Ralph, as Boone paid for his purchases.  
Boone, paused, thinking. “I’ll pay for that too,” he said, pulling more money out. He had plenty of money after so long with the Courier. With her high bodycount, there was always a lot of loot to share, often more than they wanted to carry. It didn’t matter if Fox paid him back or not. He could consider it a wedding present.

***

The atmosphere around the city was relaxed. The riots that had been occurring nightly had gradually reduced in severity after Boone and Manny had taken out the worst offenders, and ceased entirely the previous night when a more entertaining battle had burst into life between the Lucky 38 and the Gomorrah.

No one seemed to have picked up on Lanius’ broadcast yet. Hardly surprising, most of it was in Latin; besides which, no one bothered to turn the dial, there having been no new radio stations in the Mojave in living memory - with the notable exception of Black Mountain Radio, now back to static courtesy of Lucky and Maria. That hadn’t earned Vienna any thanks, in Vegas at least, where it turned out a lot of people had enjoyed Tabitha’s comical antics on air.

Instead, it had earned her the undying gratitude of Raul, expressed in the form of him sticking around, making impertinent comments and rude jokes all day. His favourite targets included her figure (You look like a wrestler, Boss. We get you a mask, eh?) and her cooking (Tastes like outer space, Boss. Nothin’ there). About the only thing he didn’t tease her about was her skill with a pistol; on their first day together he’d watched her deliberately shoot a man’s trigger finger off, for the offence of mocking her double hip holster. Raul wanted to keep what few extremities he still had.

In the billiards room of the Lucky 38, Vienna was pacing up and down, giving a stream of orders and queries to Yes Man as ideas occurred to her.

Vulpes lay full-length on a sofa near her, staring at the ceiling, half-listening and half thinking his own thoughts. He murmured answers to direct questions, but otherwise didn’t speak. Carlito napped peacefully, belly-down on Vulpes’ chest, Vulpes’ hand secure across the baby’s back.

“Yes Man, scan all radio frequencies continuously, and let me know immediately if you pick up anything other than the usual radio stations.”  
“Will do!”  
“You have sensors on the spire, right? Take a look right now and see if you can see an approaching army. From any direction, but most likely east or southeast. See anything?”  
“Nothing that looks like an army!”  
“Keep watch and if you see anything suspicious, including anyone who looks like a courier, track the direction they travel in and let me know.”  
“You got it!”  
She turned to Vulpes, and lowered her voice slightly on noticing that Carlito was asleep. “Seth, how long would it take to march an army from Flagstaff to Vegas?”

Vulpes could answer this fairly accurately, having made the trip several times himself. “Depends. You want details?”  
“No details.”  
“Maybe 65 hours, maybe not.”  
“Ok, details.”  
“It’s 263 miles. If he went all out, a bare minimum of 52 hours, but his men would arrive physically exhausted and severely sleep-deprived, no condition to fight in. To arrive in optimum condition would take around 87 hours; but he won’t be that patient. I’d say 65 hours is a safe guess.”  
“Maybe he left well before some minion of his started broadcasting the message.”  
“That is possible.”  
“You know him. That the kind of thing he’d do?”  
Vulpes shrugged with his eyebrows, so as not to disturb the baby dozing on his chest. “Maybe. He is mad but not unintelligent. But my instinct is no, he wouldn’t bother. His style is straight for the jugular, maximum force, no subtlety.” Surprising how often it worked, he thought grimly. “He wants us to hear the message. My guess is he’ll give us time to pick up on it, and then some more time to fret about it. Lanius operates on fear. He wants us to panic.”

He turned to look at her. In the low lighting her hair looked darker, and her eyes were hooded. Around the edges of her body he thought he saw a bluish aura, like electricity, and he blinked slowly, but it was still there.

Vienna said, “Yes Man. How many functioning securitrons do we have?”  
“137 in commission in New Vegas and 94 in commission at Hoover Dam!”

She frowned at Vulpes. “I wonder if Lanius is just saying he’s coming here, and he’s really going to the Dam.”  
Vulpes said, “That is possible.” It had occurred to him but he thought it unlikely. Lanius was a man who carried out his threats. He was coming for blood, not stone.  
“Means we can’t take any units from the Dam. Yes Man, extra vigilance at the Dam as well. Let me know if anything appears on the horizon there.”  
“Yessiree!” Yes Man seemed to be having a great old time.

Vulpes hated to use machines to fight his ex-comrades. In his view it was dishonourable to pit a machine against a man and call it a victory. But they didn’t have many options. They had left it too late to raise and train a militia; and even if they did manage it in time, and could obtain sufficient ordnance to arm them all, they would not come anywhere close to matching Lanius’ numbers or their combat experience.

Meanwhile, the NCR had abandoned ship, and they would not work for Vienna even if they hadn’t. Not now that it had become known she was sailing with Vulpes Inculta at her helm. The NCR abhorred him. More than they did Caesar, even. It was Vulpes Inculta’s face that adorned the NCR’s war posters. _When you steal NCR equipment, tools, and personal property... YOU are his BITCH!_ Vulpes had laughed aloud the first time he’d seen one of the posters, and it drew a amused smile from him on every subsequent occasion. The only photo they had of him was an image caught on a security camera in the dim hours before dawn, when he had slipped into Camp Searchlight; retouched by an artist to appear well lit. He had been directly facing the lens, and it was a rather good image; but since he wore his doghead and tinted glasses it was all but useless for identification. Instead, it primarily served to strengthen his iconic status, gaining him further mystique amongst the dissolute, and prestige amongst his peers. A fine piece of propaganda, indeed.

“Attention! I have picked up a suspicious radio broadcast!” Yes Man announced delightedly.

It turned out to be Lanius, still on loop. Vienna told Yes Man to let her know if it changed at all, and to keep scanning other frequencies.  
Vulpes spoke softly. “Kate. You remember Alerio said he thought the mole was watching him and transmitting information only when he was out.”  
Vienna gazed at him for a moment. “Oh right. So, we need to bring him out.”  
Vulpes got up, gently put sleeping Carlito down on the warm spot where he’d been lying, and went to kiss Vienna’s cheek.  
“Right back. Keep an eye on the kid,” he whispered in her ear, and walked out.

He didn’t feel good, and really didn’t want Alerio’s - or anyone other than Vienna’s - company, but it was necessary. There was a double advantage to having his employee in his sight. If Alerio’s theory was right, they may hear transmissions. Conversely, if he was the mole, they would have him away from his radio and unable to transmit.

Leaving the building, he passed Veronica on her way in. She looked irritable, and waylaid him. “Hey. Do you know what this is about?”  
Vulpes made a small shrug, and walked on.

Boone and Aya were up ahead of him on the Strip, carrying shopping and two babies. So, her right-hand-man hadn’t obeyed instructions. Didn’t matter, but worth noting. Craig Boone had grown some anti-authoritarian balls.

In the Vault Gift Shop, Sarah gushed at him, angling for an invitation to socialise. He glanced at her but didn’t respond, nor slow his pace. It was annoying, the way people in New Vegas felt they could just approach him whenever they wanted to.

As he made his way through the bowels of the Vault, he pondered again the situation, and how many unknown factors they were juggling with. It was almost impossible to make contingency plans when all they could do was speculate about what might be going to happen.

Outside Alerio’s door, he came to a decision. There was no point speculating, and it was foolish to wait for Lanius to show up and make the first move. They had one big advantage, and it had come from Lanius himself. They knew he was coming.

Vulpes needed to talk to Boone as soon as possible.


	51. Chapter 51

Boone installed Aya and her charges in her new suite, then knocked on Cass and Raul’s door. No answer. He went down to the casino floor and found them gambling there.

Manny was drinking nearby at the bar, chatting to the same older man Boone and Vulpes had run into on the search for Carlito. The Lonesome Drifter, he called himself. He remembered Boone and shook his hand warmly, asking if he’d had any luck finding his son, and seeming very pleased when Boone said yes.

Boone rounded everyone up, made his apologies to the Lonesome Drifter for the short conversation, and herded them back to the Lucky 38, fielding questions as best he could on the way. No, he didn’t know what the meeting was about, just that it was urgent. Yes, Cass could come back later to continue her losing streak at the blackjack tables. No, he didn’t have a stiffy for Aya. 

That last one was a lie, but Boone didn’t feel like hearing all Cass and Raul’s usual bawdy ribbing. He really liked Aya. She was motherly, gentle, and down to earth. All things the Courier and her friends weren’t. He found her warm, quiet presence a sweet relief from all their smart jokes and gunslinging.

As the elevator approached the 22nd floor of the Lucky 38, they heard Carlito shrieking. Not his normal complaint but a cry of real distress.

Boone hopped from one foot to the other as the elevator passed the last few floors, and was out before it had even half opened its doors, running towards the cry.

Vienna was in the billiards room holding Carlito close and saying to him, “Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.” Veronica was next to her, awkwardly patting the baby’s shoulder.  
Boone grabbed him away from them. “What happened?”  
“Oh Craig. He was sleeping on the sofa, and I turned my back for just a millisecond and he must’ve woken up and tried to roll over and he kinda fell off. I think he landed on his head.”

In Boone’s arms, Carlito calmed down a bit, still crying but not as hysterically.

Raul came over and inspected Carlito’s head. “Ah, he’s ok. Nothing broken. It’s when they don’t cry you gotta worry,” he said.  
“Where’s Fox?” demanded Boone. He had left Carlito with him, not Vienna. She didn’t seem to have a clue about caring for babies.  
“Here I am.” Vulpes entered the room behind him, accompanied by a strange man with reddish hair. He looked around quizzically at the assembled people.  
“Carlito fell on the floor,” Vienna admitted, shamefaced. Vulpes pressed his lips together, and didn’t say anything. He went and looked at Carlito, who was feeling better and gave him a wavering smile. A swollen spot had formed on the baby’s forehead, but it was nothing too serious, just a bruise.  
“I’m sorry,” Vulpes murmured to Boone, meaning, _I’m sorry, I mistakenly thought Kate would be competent to keep an eye on him for 10 minutes without having an accident._  
Boone took his meaning.

***

A short while later, they were all seated around the kitchen table, with glasses of watered-down agave juice provided by Vienna. She told them about Lanius’ deranged radio recording. She was initially reluctant to play it for them, but Cass and Veronica insisted they wanted to hear it, despite her warnings of how revolting it was.

_”...and that is what I will do to your bitch wife, Vulpes Inculta!”_

It made everyone cringe visibly. Boone’s face flushed red, and his trigger finger twitched.

Vulpes broke the silence by outlining his plan, and asking for Boone’s help to execute it. After what he’d just heard, Boone was only too happy to help. His only condition was that he could bring Manny. It would be helpful to have a good spotter, he said, and no one argued.

Vienna was unhappy. She wanted to go too, but Vulpes wouldn’t agree, partly because her damaged leg would slow them down, and partly because she needed to stay behind to give orders to Yes Man, in case their mission failed. She knew those were valid reasons but she felt frustrated nonetheless, and tried to argue that the mission was less likely to fail if she were along. No dice.

The plan was simple. Intercept Lanius en route, and assassinate him and his cohort commanders.

Vulpes would lead them through the terrain, and when they saw the army he would identify the men to kill. Boone would squeeze the trigger.

“What if you get all the way to Flagstaff without seeing him?” asked Veronica.  
“If that happens it will likely be because they hadn’t left Flagstaff yet. I know the route here, and we’ll find him if he’s on his way,” Vulpes replied.  
“And if he hasn’t left Flagstaff?”  
“We take him out there,” Boone said. Manny nodded.  
“You think his operation will just collapse, without him?”  
“Yes,” Vulpes said. “We take out his two highest commanders as well. The Legion is very hierarchical. Without them, the men will be paralysed.”  
“Crap system,” observed Cass.  
Vulpes gazed at her. “Yet no one managed it in 34 years.”  
“Till we did.”  
“Quit it Cass,” Vienna said.  
Vulpes kept staring at Cass, his head slightly tilted to one side. “How’s the Tops?” he asked.  
“Quit it!” Vienna repeated sharply. She stood up. “We have more important things to do than sit around taking swipes at each other. Seth, Craig and Manny, you guys are going on the mission. The rest of us are staying here. No one leaves Vegas central without my say-so. Alerio, sorry but you can’t even leave the building. Yes Man, until further notice Alerio does not have permission to use the elevator.”  
“Okey dokey!”

“Are you still gonna get married tomorrow?” asked Veronica, looking hopeful. “Cos me and Boonie have matching outfits picked out and everything.”  
All eyes swung towards Boone, who froze like a molerat in a spotlight, then jerked his thumb sideways at Veronica and made a “cuckoo” gesture.  
“Don’t lie, you have,” said Veronica. “He has,” she said, to general amusement.  
“That was your idea, not mine,” Boone ground out.

Vienna chewed her lip. She didn’t know what to do about the wedding plans. “When will you leave?” she asked Vulpes.

He had been thinking about that. He didn’t want to leave before the wedding. Even with someone as effective as Boone along, on any mission there was a chance of dying, and their target being Lanius upped the chance significantly. If Vulpes died, he wanted to die a married man.  
“What time did you arrange with the King?” he asked.  
“11am. Barbeque afterwards, then all back here for cocktails.”  
He nodded slowly, thinking. “We prepare tonight, be at the King’s at 11 tomorrow, and leave straight after. We’ll need securitrons guarding Freeside while it’s going on. Yes Man can warn us through them if he sees anything coming.”  
“Sounds good.” Vienna looked around. “Anyone got anything else to add?”  
Alerio spoke for the first time. “Why am I under arrest?”  
“Because someone is talking to Lanius, and we don’t know who it is,” Vienna answered.  
“You think it’s me?”  
“No, but I don’t know. I’m just taking precautions. Sorry. In the meantime, I hope you’ll find this gilded cage quite comfortable.”  
Alerio’s eyes went to Vulpes, who gazed back at him steadily.  
“Paenitet,” said Vulpes. _Sorry._  
Alerio didn’t really mind too much. It was worth it to have finally seen inside the Lucky 38.

***

It was noon. If Alerio was telling the truth, Lanius’ message had been on the air for less than 12 hours. On the assumption that Lanius had left Flagstaff after the message started, they still had over two full days before he would arrive.

A decision was made not to warn the residents of greater Vegas of what might be coming. If and when Yes Man saw an army breach the horizon, citizens would be warned then, and offered sanctuary inside New Vegas’ walls. Securitrons would post guard at the entrances to Freeside, and fall back if necessary. Any buildings in Freeside tall enough to offer a sniper or a man with a grenade launcher a view into New Vegas would be evacuated and booby-trapped.

The afternoon was spent getting their armour and weapons into tiptop condition. Vienna opened her stash of weaponry and said they could have whatever they wanted. Boone and Manny took a spare sniper rifle each; Vulpes chose a scoped magnum .44 to go along with That Gun, and an exceptionally vicious-looking combat knife that Vienna said she had gotten from the grave of someone called Chance. Vulpes didn’t approve of grave-robbing, but he liked the name, and if he got into a situation with Lanius where he would need a knife, he was going to need a good one. He’d only have one chance.

Once everything was done, Vulpes and Vienna prepared dinner for everyone. Vulpes did most of the work and Vienna ‘helped’ which meant keeping him company and occasionally passing him things. He was glad to have the task, to busy himself with it and think his own thoughts. He roasted a flank of Brahmin, with root vegetables, basting the meat with prickly pear juice. When it was done he made a gravy with the meat juice and some maize.

The meal went down very well with the group, generating several remarks about what a treat it was to have gravy, that it was like eating at the Ultra-Luxe. Vulpes didn’t think of gravy as luxurious. It was simply a way of not wasting any of the food, even the leftover juices. Stretching food as far as it would go had been a constant priority in the Legion.

With so much meat in his cheek he looked like a scabrous chipmunk, Raul asked, “How you learn to cook like this, zorro? Were you a chef before you were a badass?”  
Everyone looked at Vulpes, curious what his answer would be.  
Vulpes didn’t bother answering at first, but everyone kept looking at him. He kept chewing. They kept looking.  
“I’m glad you like it,” he eventually said.  
“Seriously, who did teach you to cook? Because this is delicious,” said Veronica.  
“My mother taught me some, and I taught myself the rest.”  
“You? Had a mother?” Cass blurted through a mouthful of food.  
“I thought you hatched from an egg like a lizard,” said Manny. Cass and Veronica giggled.  
“Yes, I had a mother,” Vulpes said in a tone so neutral he might have been discussing the weather. “She managed to teach me some manners, before she died.” He took a long sip of his drink. He was so tired of these people.  
Cass said, “Was it you who killed her?”  
Manny said, “You cook her, after that?”  
Raul said, “She make good gravy?”  
Vienna was mortified. Everyone was sniggering except Boone and Alerio. She wanted to leap to Vulpes’ defence, but he was usually more than able to defend himself. Why wasn’t he now? He was just sitting there, looking down, taking it. She saw him chewing slower and slower, and then stop, without swallowing.

Alerio, who had been concentrating on eating until then, looked up and spoke quietly. “May I say something?” He looked at Vienna.  
“Go ahead.”  
Alerio waited until the merriment died down, and when it was silent, addressed the group. “I see some of you feel superior to Vulpes Inculta because, like me, he is a man of the Legion.”  
“Damn straight,” said Manny. He clinked glasses with Cass.  
Alerio ignored him. “He and I have worked together for many years. If you do not respect him, it is because you do not know him. I would like to remind you of this: unlike you,” he looked at Manny, “we did not choose, as grown men, to enlist. And, unlike you,” he looked at Veronica, “we were not born into it. We were conscripted, as youths. The penalty for a single instance of weakness was death. We were made to sacrifice all we had. Our mothers,” he gestured at Vulpes, who still stared at his plate, “our brothers and sisters, our tribes, our lands, our freedom of movement and even thought. We were given new identities. You disrespect him because he was a successful Legionary? That is foolish. Consider this. To live through a year, even a month in the Legion is extremely difficult. Most do not last long; those who do are exceptional. To rise in rank is even more difficult. And Vulpes Inculta was a champion in the Legion.”

Cass said stubbornly, “Yeah, well I bet Boone could beat him in a fight. And Ronnie could punch his lights out easy.”  
“Actually Cassie, that’s already been tested,” admitted Veronica. “He kicked both our asses. Simultaneously.”

Boone, who had been keeping very quiet, leaned forward. “I got something I’d like to say,” he said. He then paused for so long, staring at his glass, it started to seem doubtful whether he would say anything.

Boone took a long, deep breath. “Fox got my wife killed, so out of all of us, I’m the one with the right to hold a personal grudge against him. But he didn’t know me then, and he did that shitty thing as part of a war. I’ve done my own shitty things in war, I’ve killed other people’s wives and children. So who the fuck am I to judge.”

All eyes were on Boone, except those of Vulpes, who was looking sideways at Vienna’s sleeve as though it were a magic carpet he could jump on and fly out of here, away from these people, away from humanity altogether.

Boone said, “I didn’t tell any of you about this before, but when we were out looking for Carlito, Fox saved my life. He saved it for no fucking reason at all. I got myself stung by a whole swarm of cazadores, and he came running, and he killed ‘em all. By hand. And then he fucking _carried_ me, _me_ , up a goddamn hill, and got me help. My heart stopped, I was dead, I was dead meat. He tell you about that, Kate?”  
“No.”  
“And then he found Carlito and he stole him from Bitter Springs for me. They weren’t going to give him to me.” Boone’s voice cracked slightly.  
Vulpes said softly, “You don’t have to defend me.”  
Boone said, “Yeah, I do.” He looked around. “I don’t wanna hear any more shit. You’re all fine. My wife is dead. Thanks to him, thanks to me, thanks to the Legion. His mother is dead. Who killed her?” he turned to Vulpes.  
“The Legion.”  
“Right. The rest of you can fuck off.” He sat back and glared at everyone. His face was redder than before and his index finger tapped fast on the table.

Vienna had never seen Boone this angry with his friends before. He was shooting daggers, even at Veronica.

Vulpes got up, took his plate to the sink and rinsed it. He came back, took Alerio’s plate and rinsed that too. Then he walked out, and after a few moments they heard the elevator ding.

“Sorry, Vee, and sorry Boonie,” said Veronica, ashamed.  
“Yeah, sorry about that boss, just got outta hand,” said Raul. “He’s an ok guy really.” He nudged Cass, to prompt her to offer an apology, but Vienna got up and walked away.  
“You people are fucking assholes,” said Boone.  
“It was just a joke, man,” Manny tried, but Boone shook his head.  
“It’s not a fucking joke to humiliate a man in front of the woman he wants to marry. And it’s not a fucking joke to mock a man’s dead mother, while you eat the food he’s made you.”  
“That was kinda bad,” conceded Cass. 

Boone got up and walked away, and Veronica soon followed suit. Raul, Cass, Manny and Alerio were left at the table. Alerio wanted to walk away too, but he had nowhere to go.


	52. Chapter 52

Boone found Vienna in her bedroom, getting changed into a very short dark red nightgown with a see-through brassiere part. If he hadn’t been so grumpy he might have paid more attention to it. She told him she was going up to the Penthouse for the night, and that he and Carlito could have the master bedroom, which, being soundproof, was a better place for Carlito than the group bunkroom.

Veronica came in and apologised again to Vienna and Boone. She offered to stay with Boone and take over the night-time babycare duties, in penance.

Boone accepted both offers gratefully, and decided to go to bed very early, feeling unsociable, and exhausted from having hardly slept the previous night. He needed to be in good form the next day; they were going Monster hunting. 

He moved Carlito’s ammo-crate in next to the bed, kissed the sleeping baby softly on the forehead, and lay down, noticing Vienna’s bed smelled of some strange, sweet perfume. He fell asleep almost immediately.

Veronica lay down next to him, and quietly read. _Tales of a Junktown Jerky Vendor._ The stories were great, though they didn’t seem to all have been written by one jerky vendor, they read like several different authors’ work. Some of the tales were disgusting, others so funny she had to stifle a laugh. One contained an implausible recipe for ‘Jerky Parisienne’ that she memorised. Maybe she could try to make it for Vulpes as a peace offering.

Dressed in her sexy sleepwear, Vienna stood in the lift, wondering if Vulpes had gone to the Penthouse, or to some unknown place outside. “Penthouse floor please, Yes Man. Where’d Seth go, by the way?”  
“Mr Dove is in the Revolving Cocktail Lounge!” Yes Man’s voice was much too loud in the confined space, but Vienna’s hearing was so damaged by years of gunfire she wasn’t bothered by it.  
“Take me there instead.”

Vienna walked into the cocktail lounge. A radio behind the bar was on, and Mr New Vegas was giving some out-of-date tidbits of news.

Vulpes wasn’t in sight, so she strolled around and found him on the east side, slumped on a sofa with his head back, staring at the ceiling. She sat down next to him. He turned his head to look at her. She looked back.  
“You found me fast,” he murmured.  
“Yes Man can ruin any game of hide and seek.”  
“Ah.”

Mr New Vegas finished the news and introduced Nat King Cole’s _Love me as though there were no tomorrow._  
 _  
Take me out of this world tonight  
Take me, make me forget my sorrow  
So when I wake tomorrow  
I'll know our love was right  
_  
Vienna knew Vulpes didn’t want to talk, but she couldn’t leave things as they were. “My friends were being idiots,” she said, echoing words he had once said to her. Her voice softened. “I’m so sorry, honey. You’ve had a hell of a day, I know.”  
Vulpes registered the ‘honey’ - it was the first time she had addressed him by an endearment.  
He said, “Why apologise for things that are not your fault? It doesn’t matter anyway. Your friends may be idiots but they love you and they think I’m trying to take you away from them.” He smiled faintly. “Which I am.”  
“Huh. Heh. Well, that’s honest.”  
“I pride myself on being the most honest dissembler in the Wastes,” Vulpes said with a twinkle in his eye.  
“Ha.” Vienna felt relief, he seemed fine after all. Whatever he’d been feeling, he’d beaten it.  
 _  
Kiss me, as though it were now or never  
Teach me all that a heart should know  
Oh my darling, love me  
Don't ever let me go  
_  
Vienna said, “Hey, about going to Utah, let’s not and say we did.”  
“Why do you say that?”  
“Well, I got the impression you weren’t too keen. Plus it might turn out to be a can of worms that I’m better off not opening.”  
“That is true. It’s also true that I wasn’t keen when you suggested it, but now I want to go. My ‘worms’ are all dead so there is no danger there.”  
Then why the change in tune? Vienna wondered to herself.  
“I wish to bury the bones of my family,” Vulpes answered.  
Vienna paused, unsure of whether he meant it literally. She nodded slowly. “Yeah. Ok, we’ll go whenever you want.”  
“When the present matter is dealt with,” said Vulpes. _When Lanius lies dead and the crows have plucked his eyes out._

Vulpes smiled inside as Vienna climbed onto his lap and caressed his head, tracing his cheekbones, and running her fingers though his thick dark hair; which reminded him that he needed a haircut. His hair was longer than he ever had it. Over an inch long. It felt good though, her fingers caressing it like that...  
“Your hair is so soft,” she murmured admiringly.  
Vulpes instantly resolved again to cut it. He could not be soft. His new role as ‘boyfriend’ had already softened him up more than he was comfortable with. Being in love was a double-edged sword; it had made him feel on top of the world, whilst bestowing on him an Achilles heel, a crack in his armour that could be exploited by those who wished him ill. It had already begun. He needed to be harder than before, not softer.

Vienna looked into his eyes and saw shadows.  
He deflected, his gaze roving over her features instead, coming to rest on her mouth.  
She said very gently, “I’m listening, if you want to talk about them.”  
“No.”  
“Don’t want to? Or want to but can’t?” She leant in and touched the end of her nose to his. Rather than answer he took her mouth in an intense kiss, then broke off and looked at her, his eyes now cold iron.  
“Don’t pity me.” His tone held a warning.  
“I don’t, Seth honey, I just want you to feel better.”  
He shook his head, frowning. “That’s not necessary.” He pushed her off his lap, got up and moved to the edge of the room, where floor-to-ceiling windows sloped outwards at a 70 degree angle. A strong southerly wind had developed and was making the building sway very slightly, only perceptible this high up. The sky was darkening and the first stars were visible. The land was dark, jagged black mountain ranges lining the horizon. Somewhere out there, Lanius approached.

Vulpes found himself missing the simplicity of the safehouse. Barbecuing food over an open fire, talking and kissing in the cool breeze, making love under the stars; alone together. Now, he felt claustrophobic. The initial delight he had taken in the luxuriousness of the Lucky 38 had dissipated, and he wanted to escape, to take Kate with him and leave everything else behind.

In the glass Vienna’s reflection came up behind him. Her hands appeared on his shoulders, and he felt her kiss on the nape of his neck. She stood on tiptoes and kissed her way to his ear, her breath tickling him. He shivered slightly, and his cock gave a jump when soft lips gave way to tentative teeth, nibbling his earlobe.

He watched the dark-filled outline of her reflection, and said quietly, “You must not ever feel sorry for me, Kate. That is something I neither deserve nor desire.”  
“Hmmm. What my man deserves... and desires,” she breathed against his skin, “Now what would that be?”  
Her hands slipped up his torso under his t-shirt and he allowed her to lift it off him. She kissed the sensitive skin on each of the recent scars on his shoulders and ribcage, wounds left by the feral ghouls he’d fought off her. They were healing well, and fading to join myriad other traces of his soldier’s life. But the scars on his body did not tell his true story, only the history of his more narrowly-won battles. The true man was hidden from Vienna, hidden so deeply it might never surface.

Vulpes wanted to open up to her, so she could truly know him, but the emotional scar tissue protecting him was so thick it was almost impenetrable. And if he did succeed in piercing it? He would make himself frighteningly vulnerable, raw and exposed to incredible pain, should she ever turn against him. That was a possibility he could not discount. She might still wake up from this dream.

That thought was in itself so disturbing that he felt an overwhelming urge to possess her, now, to force it away. He turned to face her and pulled her in tightly, crushing his lips against hers in an urgent kiss, reaching under the back of her slinky nightwear to grasp the plump cheeks of her ass and pull her hips against his, gratified to find she kissed him back with matching fervour, licking and sucking his tongue and pulling his head to hers with both hands.

_Never leave me,_ he wanted to tell her, but he couldn’t, because to say it aloud could precipitate it happening – that was the treacherous nature of the fates.

Instead he pulled the straps of her nightgown down, exposing her breasts, and traced a finger around their curves. Her nipples grew hard with his touch, and he took one in his mouth and the other in his hand, sucking, rolling and squeezing. He turned her so she leant back at an angle against the glass, and slid the nightgown down over her hips, letting it drop to the floor, still rubbing his face over her breasts and suckling her nipples. His hands slid up her thighs, caressing them and pushing them apart at the same time. He reverently kissed down her belly, past her bellybutton, while his fingers stroked up, into her warmth, finding her moist and ready. His fingers penetrated up into her depths, just as his tongue reached her sex.

Vienna lay back against the cold glass, eyes closed, what few thoughts she had directed towards not buckling at the knees. The sensation of him opening, probing and licking her was divine. On earth he was just a man, albeit an exceptional one, but on her body he was a deity, provoking sensations and reactions that took her into the clouds. Now he was gently spreading her, pushing his tongue in and licking her from the inside. She ran her fingers through his hair, pulling his head in and urging him deeper. His teeth slid against her clit and she gasped. He withdrew his tongue and replaced it with fingers, pressing in firmly. The tip of his tongue met her clit and she gasped again, and moaned long and low as he circled it, flicked it, circled again, sucked.

An insane orgasm shook her body violently, and he caught her as her knees folded, leaning his body against hers to pin her against the window, and kissed her mouth again, his lips and tongue soaked in her juices. Vienna kissed back in a daze, momentarily deaf, her blood rushing wildly.

Slowly she regained her senses, and became aware of the window she leant on vibrating slightly from the high winds outside. She felt his hardness pressing painfully against her pelvic bone. He was holding her shoulders hard against the glass, and kissing her like a man due for execution. She wriggled free, dropped to her knees and deftly opened his trousers, her eyes glowing with renewed lust when his beautiful erection sprang out from confinement. She lightly licked the precum from its tip, then stroked it with one hand while she licked his balls, taking first one, then both into her mouth. His swollen cock grew hard as tempered steel. He stared down, breathing fast and wanting her to take it and swallow it whole, and soon she released his balls and gave the head of his cock another lick, letting her tongue wet its circumference. She blew on the dark red, tender skin. The cold sensation made him gasp, then moan when it was replaced by heat and gentle pressure as she slid her hot mouth over his glans, slowly taking more and more of him in, retreating, then taking still more. He sighed deeply and leaned back against the glass, abandoning himself to the exquisite feeling. Her tongue flickered and danced on the underside of his cock as she gently sucked up and down, her hand encircling him adjacent to her lips, gripping tightly and moving in time with her mouth.

It was too good. He let go, and watched her struggle to swallow fast enough as spurt after spurt of semen filled her mouth; the sight of coming in her as pleasurable as the sensation. The movement of her throat as she swallowed turned him on so much that before he’d even finished, he wanted her again.

He pulled her to her feet, gripped her ass and lifted her up. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him, and he lowered her onto his cock, fully hard again and straining into her seemingly with a life of its own. He rammed once into her, hard against the window, and she yelped in fear. Behind the glass, the ground below was an easy 400 foot drop. Vienna hadn’t been afraid when she was leaning back over it, hadn’t been afraid even when he had pressed her against the glass, but she was afraid now, smashing into it, as it hummed in the storm. Vulpes showed no caution whatsoever. He slammed into her again, paused to look at her reaction, then hit again, and again, picking up a brutal rhythm. It felt like he was actually trying to smash through, to murder-suicide by sex, his aim the final impact as they hit the ground.

She wanted to say stop but her heart was in her mouth, so she struggled, adrenaline giving her extra strength, but it was no use, he held her in a grip as unbreakable as the jaws of a yao guai. The sheet glass trembled as he thudded her into it. This is it, Vienna thought. I die now. Then she thought, hmm... this is actually a pretty sweet way to go...

Fear passed and gave way to tranquility, and she began to enjoy it, kiss him back, and even move in a way to facilitate the blows. Idly she wondered if anyone below could see them. From a distance all they would see was her behind squashed against the glass, but if they stood directly below the outwardly-sloping window and looked up, they would be able to watch his cock entering her. Then watch as they crashed through and splattered onto the dusty ground, shards of glass raining around their pulverised bodies.

As though her acceptance of death was his true aim, and she had now passed that test, Vulpes stopped.

He carried her a few short steps back to the sofa, placing her lengthwise onto it, face down. He gripped her hips and pulled her ass high up, positioned himself behind her, and just when she expected him to put his cock back into her, put his fingers in instead. The feeling of being fully on display to him, helpless, was strangely thrilling to Vienna. He slid his fingers in and swirled them around, then pulled them out and smoothed her slick moisture up to her asshole, repeating the action a couple of times, lubricating her. Vienna shivered in anticipation, he was going to fuck her in the ass, and she loved it when he did that.

But that was not his intention. She felt his cock stretch her swollen cunt again. He held it there, throbbing inside her, and now she felt a moistened finger slide into her ass, pushing slowly but firmly, all the way in. It held there a second or two, then pulled out and was joined by another, easing in and out of her tight entrance. His cock throbbed intensely inside her but stayed poised, as a third slippery finger joined its brothers, pushing in deep, stretching her hole deliciously. She groaned with pleasure into the sofa cushion. The action changed, his fingers stayed still now, pushed fully into her ass, while his cock started to move, thrusting gently at first, then with increasing force. At this angle he could reach incredibly deep into her, enough that she felt a twinge of discomfort deep in her belly, but the pleasure outweighed any pain. His thrusts became more and more powerful, and his fingers started to move too, inching out, then ramming back in, in time with his thrusts. Vienna felt bliss.

He made no sound, she didn’t even hear him breathing now. She had a sudden terrible thought that if she looked back at him she would see him crying. She tried to banish the thought, but it was killing her buzz. She twisted her head round and sneaked a look. He gazed back at her steadily, his eyes empty of anything but concentration. Relieved, Vienna relaxed and began again to enter her state of bliss, letting the force of his assaults shake her body till she came shuddering to a second orgasm, weaker but longer and sweeter than the first. Vulpes followed her less than a minute later, jerking hard and taking his fingers out to grab her hips with both hands for one final, bone-crunching thrust.

He sat back on his haunches and now she heard him panting softly. “Can you climax again?” he asked unexpectedly.  
“I already came twice.”  
“Can you do it a third time?”  
“Maybe...”  
He helped her into a sitting position on the very edge of the sofa, then pushed her back, spread her legs, knelt between them and inserted the fingers of his other hand into her soaked pussy.  
“Touch yourself,” he whispered, staring at her clit as though he were talking to it. She reached down and began to stroke herself. Her clit was swollen and very wet, it was easy to get a good rhythm going, and his gaze and soft breath on her hand heightened her excitement. He moved his fingers very gently, in a swirling motion. He added more fingers till he had four in, and the thought of what he might be going to do next made Vienna’s mouth water. _Do it_ she silently begged.

He did it. Big time.

When his hand was embedded in her well past the wrist and he was steadily punching into her she came again, her vision turning black and starry, screaming out loud. It didn’t matter, no one except Mr New Vegas would hear.

Mr New Vegas obligingly played Bing Crosby’s _Something’s Gotta Give._  
 __  
When an irresistible force such as you  
Meets an old immovable object like me  
You can bet just as sure as you live  
Something's gotta give, something's gotta give  
.


	53. Chapter 53

Vienna awoke in the early hours of the morning feeling very odd. A tingly, excited feeling, deep inside. In a few hours she would marry a man she loved inordinately, which felt strange and surreal and wonderful... but it wasn’t just that.

Outside, the storm had passed. The penthouse curtains were open and bright stars were visible in the clear night sky. Vulpes lay on his front next to her, radiating an immense heat she could feel even from inches away. His arm draped across her midriff, making her skin sweat where it touched. She carefully lifted the arm and rolled away from the heat onto her side, replacing the arm over her waist.

He didn’t move, but she knew he would be awake now. He never slept through any surreptitious movement. She stayed still, waiting for him to go back to sleep, wondering if she would be able to get back to sleep herself with this unfamiliar feeling inside.

Vulpes’ hand stroked the deep incurvature of her waist. He moved up close behind her. One hot hand snaked up between her breasts, the other went under her waist and onto her lower torso, pulling her tightly to his body. It was like being pressed to a grill. She felt his lips brush the back of her neck.

Vulpes whispered, “I love you, Kate Quantrill.” He kissed her. “My woman.” Kiss. “ _Venus_.”

A few inches under his hand, between Vienna’s pelvic bones, two miniature foetuses danced and swirled.


	54. Chapter 54

On Sunday morning, Vulpes put on his dapper suit, arranged his tie into a tidy bow and donned his fedora, careful to put it on straight. Jaunty angles were for the Swanks of this world. He studied himself in the mirror. Satisfactory. His look was suave but serious.

Vienna was putting on the olive green dress with black lace overlay and matching shoes that Vulpes had bought her when they first arrived in Vegas. The tightly cinched design accentuated her hourglass shape. She let her hair hang loose out of its usual braid. They went into the bathroom, and Vulpes smoothed his short beard and trimmed a couple of errant whiskers, then brushed Vienna’s hair for her till it shone. She applied a little bit of the Montezuma Red to her lips. Vulpes wiped it off again.

At 10:37, when the whole group stepped out of the dimly lit Lucky 38 into the blinding glare of clear, post-storm sunlight, they looked like a million caps.

Veronica and Boone had dressed up, as Veronica said they would, in co-ordinated pre-war spring outfits, a pink cocktail dress with a red sash on Veronica, and a matching red short-sleeved collar shirt on Boone, above belted black Sta-Prest trousers. Boone would have been quite teasable in the stylish outfit if he didn’t look so damned good in it. Naturally, he retained his beret and mirrored glasses - those were non-negotiable.

Raul had insisted on wearing his ancient Vaquero ensemble, complete with two customised .44 magnum revolvers and more bandoliers than he could possibly need unless he planned a one-man massacre. It could happen; you never knew with Raul.

Manny wore his usual outfit, as did Cass, minus the straw hat. Alerio hadn’t had much choice in the matter, but since he habitually wore a suit he chanced to appear very presentable.

The securitrons were already in place around Freeside, a few more concentrated around the King’s. One would be positioned just inside the door to be an emergency interface with Yes Man if Vienna needed it.

At the King’s they circulated amongst the other guests. Vulpes’ only invitee was Alerio, but Vienna had invited a wide range of people. Swank and some other Chairmen were there. Marjorie was the sole representative from the Ulta-Luxe; Vienna disliked the others, especially the cannibalistic Mortimer. Ralph and Mick were there, along with various members of the Gun Runners, Followers, and other assorted Vegas area citizenry. Vienna planned to use the event to publicize her gentleman’s club idea, with today being the inaugural day. They would all retire to the Revolting Cocktail Lounge after the wedding.

Emily Ortal was there, very curious to see Veronica after the mysterious summoning and non-reappearance of the previous day. Julie Farkas had been invited, but was absent.

Vulpes went over to Mick, remembering that he still hadn’t paid for the gold rings in his pocket. “Mick. I am sorry I didn’t come back when I said I would. Things have been a little... interesting.”  
Mick looked unperturbed. “Hey no problem man, I got the money you sent.”  
This was news. “From whom?” Vulpes asked.  
“Your brother,” Mick indicated Boone, who was standing nearby, talking about scopes with one of the Gun Runners.  
“He paid you in full?”  
“Yep. Thanks. And hey, congratulations.”  
Vulpes nodded at Mick and walked away. Why would Craig Boone have done that, he wondered. Vulpes did not like to owe favours to anyone. Even his ‘brother’. He resolved to repay the debt as soon as possible, with interest.

The King was wearing a splendid white sequined outfit, and had pomaded his hair so thoroughly it looked like it was made of thick, grooved vinyl. Once all the guests were seated he ushered the betrothed couple up onto the stage.

Vienna looked out at the chattering crowd, wondering if it was all a deranged dream. Only thirteen days had passed since they had killed Caesar, and of those days, she was only able to clearly recall the last nine. Waking up to find Caesar’s prodigy inside her, without permission. Now she was marrying him, with permission. No one was holding a gun to her head, she wanted to do it. Maybe she hadn’t woken up; maybe she was still out cold somewhere.

Then Vulpes put his hand in hers, and met her eyes, and all such thoughts fell out of her head. The crowd faded away and the room became empty space, stretching to infinity. All she saw was him. She adored him. Nothing else mattered.

The King was giving a barely coherent yet somehow profound speech about the redemptive power of love, then Vulpes and Vienna exchanged rings and were married. It was surprisingly quick, and they were about to leave the stage when the Lonesome Drifter made an unexpected appearance from behind the curtains, holding his guitar.  
“Hello again, pardner,” he greeted Vulpes, tipping his hat to Vienna. He sat down and strummed the guitar, and the crowd went quiet. The Lonesome Drifter nodded at the King.

The King began to sing.  
  
 _Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go_  
 _You have made my life complete, and I love you so_  
 _Love me tender, love me long, take me to your heart_  
 _For it’s there that I belong, and will never part_  
 _Love me tender, love me dear, tell me you are mine_  
 _I’ll be yours through all the years, till the end of time_  
  
Vienna looked shyly at Vulpes, and saw a new light in his eyes. He leant towards her, and she met his lips with a kiss.

For just a few seconds, the world stopped turning. 

_Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfilled_  
 _For my darling, I love you, and I always will_

***

After the wedding there was a barbeque on the roof. Some of the Kings had been up there spit-roasting a whole bighorner all morning, and it was ready to eat and smelled mouth-wateringly good. Guests crowded around to take slices of the succulent meat, and the noise of conversation grew louder. The Lonesome Drifter played “Guitar Man” and the King sang again. Beers were cracked open. The mood of the guests improved even further, and some people even danced.  
 _If you ever take a trip down to the ocean, find yourself down around Mobile_  
 _Make it on out to a club called Jack's, if you got a little time to kill_  
 _Well you just follow that crowd of people, you'll wind up out on his dance floor_  
 _Diggin' the finest little five-piece group up and down the Gulf of Mexico_  
 _And guess who's leadin' that five-piece band?_  
 _Well wouldn't ya know, it's that swingin' little Guitar Man_  
Vulpes and Boone ate in silence, mentally already out on the road. Both men were in kill-mode. Boone had bloodlust and felt light on his feet, the way he felt when his adrenaline flowed. Vulpes felt cool and so unnaturally calm it was like everything around him was happening slightly slower than realtime. He was acutely aware of all movements around him and could see them happening before they even occurred.

They were two perfect assassins, ready for one of the biggest hits of their careers, and already scenting blood.

At 12:42 the barbeque was more or less over and Vienna led the guests in a large group back to the Lucky 38 for atomic cocktails in the Revolting Cocktail Lounge. There had been a few cautious ‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’s whispered in her ear, but on the whole, the mood of the event had been happy and celebratory. Everyone was glad to see the overweening NCR presence in Vegas reduced, and people openly toasted the death of Caesar; the odd furtive glance at Vulpes notwithstanding.

At 12:59 in the 38’s cocktail lounge, Vulpes kissed Vienna, pressed his forehead to hers for a moment, and walked out without a word. Boone hugged her tightly, and roughly kissed her ear. Manny shook her hand, then gave her a one-armed hug. Vienna was sorry to see them go, and felt uneasy in the pit of her stomach, but there was no point worrying about it now, so she turned back to her guests and smiled and joked and raised her glass in return to anyone who raised theirs.

Much later, after the guests had left, Cass and Raul had headed to the Tops for a spot of gambling, and only Veronica, Emily and Alerio remained behind helping to clear up, Vienna felt a sense of melancholy. It wasn’t just that her favourite guys had gone off. The mission was hazardous but they were a crack team. They would be back... almost certainly. No, there was another favourite guy, one who would never be back. She missed Arcade. She smiled sadly, realising it had taken the refined environment of a cocktail party to notice how much she missed him. He would have been in his element; witty and erudite conversations were his forte. Had been. It still felt like he wasn’t dead, just absent. There was no helping it, so Vienna decided to leave it that way. Arcade was at another cocktail party somewhere, a more sophisticated one, with snazzier outfits, brainier conversations, cuter dudes.

When everything was cleaned up, Emily said goodbye. She was scheduled to work the nightshift from 10pm to 10am and needed to get some rest in advance.

That left only Veronica and Alerio for company. Alerio leant against the bar as Veronica and Vienna put away the freshly washed cocktail glasses. Vienna found Alerio not unpleasant but very quiet and a little strange. He paid close attention to everything, but reacted to almost nothing. There was no inflection in his voice, even when he was speaking on emotive topics. When people at the barbeque had cheered the death of Caesar, his face had been impassive. He was like a robot. Vienna had heard rumours of androids operating on the east coast... maybe Alerio was one? She idly imagined contriving a situation where he would get a cut, to see if he was full of wires and blinking lights.

Yes Man broke her reverie. “Attention! I have picked up a suspicious radio broadcast!”  
“Play it.”  
Loud static. “ _Leo, Leo, Leo, Leo. Vulpes Inculta left New Vegas at 1pm today_.”  
Static. A different voice said, “ _Aiens_.”  
Static. “ _Leo. He has two snipers with him_.”  
Static. “ _Aiens_.”  
Static. Silence.

The three of them gazed at the ceiling while the message was playing, then looked at each other.  
Vienna stared at Alerio, eyebrows raised.  
Alerio answered her silent query. “ _Aiens_ is like ‘understood’. I cannot be certain, but I think the voice was not Lanius.”  
“Who was the first voice?” asked Veronica.  
Vienna and Alerio still looked at each other. They were both thinking the same thing; the voice was familiar.  
“Do you know who it was?” Vienna asked.  
Alerio paused before he spoke. “The voice sounded familiar, but it was deliberately disguised. I think... I have heard it before. It is someone I have met.”  
“I thought the same thing,” Vienna said. “Veronica, ring any bells with you?”  
“Vaguely, yes... but I can’t put my finger on it.”  
“I’d like to know who it is. Keep thinking about it.”  
Veronica and Alerio nodded.  
“Now they know the guys are coming. Do you think they are going to try to intercept Boone and Seth?” asked Veronica, looking fearful.  
Vienna frowned and said nothing. Alerio looked thoughtful. He said, “They are expected now, but I think Vulpes will have anticipated that possibility anyway. It does not mean the mission will fail.”

Veronica said, “Ok. I’m gonna go to bed early, Vee. I was up most of last night with Carlito. Dunno how Boonie does it, I’m zonked. Call me if you need anything.” She made a mini-salute and headed for the lift, telling Yes Man to take her to the Presidential Suite. 

Vienna looked at Alerio and he looked back. “I guess this means you’re no longer under house-arrest. Yes Man! Alerio is free to leave now.”  
“Gotcha!”  
Vienna waited for Alerio to leave, but he stayed leaning against the bar. He said, “I will leave if you insist, but I prefer to remain here, if I may.”  
“Because?”  
“Vulpes Inculta charged me with protecting you until he returns.”  
“Did he, now. Hmm.” Vienna considered Alerio, her expression pensive. Seth had not mentioned anything to her, but it was not unlikely that he had made such an order. “Very well, stay if you wish. You are free to leave whenever you want.”  
“Thank you.”

“Have a drink with me,” Vienna said, getting a glass and pouring a small whiskey for herself, topping it up with soda water.  
“I do not drink alcohol,” said Alerio.  
“A _nojito_ then.” Vienna made a cocktail of sweet herbs, a little fruit juice, soda water and a lot of ice. The boys had been drinking the same, before they left.

She brought the drinks to one of the booths by the window, and sat down. Alerio sat opposite her. He sipped the drink, as usual showing nothing.  
Vienna said, “Taste nice?”  
“Thank you, yes.” His face was a blank.  
Vienna studied him. They had the evening ahead of them, and she thought it might be fun to spend it trying to see if Alerio could be beaten at his own game. Not that it mattered either way. Just a way to fill the time.

“It was nice of you, sticking up for Seth last night,” she said.  
Alerio looked at her steadily and made no response. Wondering what she wanted from him.  
“Would you describe him as a friend of yours?” she asked.  
Alerio nodded once, wordlessly.  
Vienna tapped her fingernail on the side of her glass, considering the silent man. “What do you think of him marrying a dissolute woman?”  
“Why would it matter what I think?”  
“Indulge me.”  
Alerio looked at her. She held his gaze. He sipped his drink again. After a long time he spoke. “Vulpes Inculta very rarely makes mistakes.”  
Vienna laughed. Alerio’s words could mean one of two things, but those things were opposites. If Seth had trained him, he had done an excellent job. “You want a job working for me?” she offered, smiling.  
Alerio shook his head. “I answer to Vulpes Inculta,” he replied.

They looked out of the window and admired the view for a while.

Vienna changed tack. “So, you and Sarah, eh? How long’s that been going on?”  
Alerio didn’t answer until she looked inquiringly at him. “A while.”  
“She’s nice isn’t she,” Vienna said conversationally.  
Alerio made a half-nod.  
“She’s very pretty.”  
No response.  
“Do you think you might marry her?”  
Again Alerio didn’t answer, but his eyes changed focus and Vienna felt a little frisson of triumph. An involuntary reaction, at last.  
“You should, she’s gorgeous, imagine what beautiful children you would have,” she said, turning it up a few notches. Alerio’s discomfort was quite amusing now. No one had probably ever talked to him like this before.  
“I can ask the King about organising it for you, if you want.”  
Alerio swallowed. Then he surprised her by saying candidly, “Sarah does not like to leave the Vault.”  
“Ohhh... right, she and her bro are agoraphobic, I forgot.”  
Sarah and her artist brother Michael Angelo were both brought up in Vault 21 from birth, and both suffered a severe fear of being out in the open. Hence, they had not attended her wedding, despite both being on longstanding friendly terms with Vienna.

The conversation, such as it was, turned to Lanius. Alerio was more forthcoming on that topic. It became clear that there was no love lost between them. It seemed that Lanius had despised all members of the Frumentarii, and repeatedly attempted to persuade Caesar to disband and even execute them. Untrustworthy, dishonest men who spent too much time amongst the dissolute and had very likely been corrupted, was Lanius’ argument.

The radio broadcast was still bothering Vienna. Lanius knew Vulpes and Boone were coming now, and would no doubt send out scouting parties to try to kill them before they could achieve their aim. The thought of them being killed, their bodies lost on some high rocks somewhere, possibly never found, made her feel queasy. She would never know what happened, just that they did not return. Ever.

Her thoughts must have showed on her face because Alerio said softly, “Vulpes Inculta will not be ambushed, he is too clever for that. He will be expecting traps.”  
Vienna nodded. The same was probably true for Boone, and Manny. They were highly trained snipers. She just hoped they were as good at detecting stealth attacks as they were at performing them. 

The sun went down, and Vienna and Alerio went down to the Presidential Suite. Vienna felt awkward about the idea of letting Alerio use the room that Veronica was asleep in, so she offered him her room. He looked surprised but accepted.

“Please do not leave the building without waking me to accompany you,” he asked, as she said goodnight. Vienna agreed, and went to the group bunkroom, falling asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow.


	55. Chapter 55

In the middle of the night, Vienna awoke. The suite was quiet, except for Veronica snoring softly in the next bed. Her mouth felt dry from the whiskeys, so she got up, went to the bathroom and drank some water straight from the tap, cupped in her hands. Back in bed, she thought again about the boys out in the desert at night, running silently with heavy guns on their backs. They would be tired by now. More vulnerable to making mistakes. Vulpes’ sleek form... running smoothly across rough terrain... black sky, bright moon... translucent eyes, seeing in the dark...  
Her mind went fuzzy.

Yes Man’s voice directly above jerked her back into the room. “Sorry to bother you so late, boss, but someone who says her name is Sarah Weintraub is at the door, requesting admittance!”  
“Sarah?” Vienna asked groggily. She had been more asleep than she’d thought.  
“Sarah, a man she names as Michael Angelo, and Mr Mortimer from the Ultra Luxe!”  
Yuck, Mortimer. What would Sarah be doing with that creep. More to the point, what would agoraphobic Sarah and her brother be doing outside?  
“What do they want?”  
“Miss Weintraub says she has urgent information for you!”  
“Why’s Mortimer with her?”

Yes Man was silent a moment, presumably asking. “She says Mr Mortimer is helping her and her brother!”  
“She and her brother can come in, Mortimer can’t.”

Yes Man was silent again. “She asks if Mr Mortimer may come in with them as she and her brother are feeling very unwell and they need his assistance!”  
“Let me talk to her.”  
“Vienna?” Sarah’s faint voice, sounding upset.  
“Sarah, are you ok?”  
“Sort of, can you let us in please, something’s happened and I need to talk to you and Alerio.”  
She definitely sounded distressed. It struck Vienna that maybe Sarah thought Alerio was having some sort of affair with her or Veronica or something.  
“Uh, ok, come on in. Yes Man, let them in.”

If she had not still been half asleep she would not have made that mistake.

“What’s going on?” asked Veronica, sounding even sleepier.  
“Dunno, Sarah Weintraub is coming up, says she’s got some important info, and she’s bringing Mortimer.”  
“Ugh, that sleaze.”  
“Yeah.” Vienna got out of bed again, put on a shirt and some trousers and went to wait by the elevator doors. Veronica stayed in bed.

When the lift doors opened, Mortimer stepped out first, quickly going around behind Vienna. She turned to face him, saying “Hey!”, and in her peripheral vision the largest man she had ever seen stepped out of the lift. He was fully seven feet tall, and built like a boxer. With one huge hand he was holding Sarah up in front of him like a shield.

Vienna said, “The Legate Lanius, I presume,” and got hit by a flying projectile which knocked her back into the wall and blackened her vision for a second. It was Sarah Weintraub’s body. Shoving Sarah away, Vienna scrabbled to her feet as Lanius crossed the hall in a single stride, and a fist that felt like it was carved from marble connected with the side of her head, right where her bullet scar was, switching her lights out.


	56. Chapter 56

When she came to a short while later, she was bound hand and foot, still clothed, and there was something tickly stuffed in her mouth. She felt it with her tongue and realised it was her own hair, the thick braid wrapped around her head and taped into place between her teeth. Disgusted, she fought in vain to break the tape and spit it out. She looked around and saw that Veronica was similarly tied up, next to her. They were on Vienna’s spacious bed, in the master bedroom. Alerio’s upper body was visible outside the open door. He was lying still, staring sightlessly ahead, his head resting in an oblong pool of blood.  
Damn.

Sarah Weintraub was not in sight, and nor were Lanius or Mortimer. Vienna listened intently. No sound. Veronica was lying very still on her side, facing away, bound tightly. Vienna grunted to attract her attention. Veronica grunted back. Vienna felt a wave of relief, Vero was still alive at least. She tested the strength of her bindings. No give at all. She wiggled her fingers, and her hands felt numb. Her circulation was getting cut off.

Footsteps approached. Lanius strode in, dragging Sarah behind him by her upper arm as though she were just a doll. She was alive, covered in bruises and her lips were badly split. All her front teeth were gone. He tossed her to one side and she crumpled. “I’m sho shorry, Bienna,” she cried behind her hands. Lanius aimed a kick at her face and Vienna heard Sarah’s fingers break.

She vowed right then to kill this man and keep killing him till no two of his molecules remained next to each other.

Lanius came up and put his face close to Vienna’s, speaking slowly. “I want you to tell your machine that no one else is to enter the building. No one. No exceptions. Can you do that?”  
Vienna nodded her head. It hurt like fire where he had punched it.  
“Good. Pay attention, Courier. If you do not do what I say, or you say anything else, or displease me -” he walked over to Sarah Weintraub, took a ripper from his belt, flicked it on and stabbed it through her eye, into her brain. Her body jerked and went limp. He pulled her corpse to the doorway and tossed it on top of Alerio’s, as though it weighed nothing. He came back and sat on the bed, pointing the bloodied ripper at Veronica, but keeping his eyes on Vienna’s. “That is what will happen to your friend here.” He shook his head slowly, a twisted smile curling his lips. “But slower than that. Much, much slower. Do you understand?”  
Vienna nodded.  
“Do you want that to happen?”  
She shook her head vigorously, oblivious now to the pain.  
“Do you want to please me?”  
Vienna nodded again, making her eyes look earnest and obedient, and not _I will kill you._

Lanius tossed the ripper aside and took out a flick-knife. Sliding the blade under the tape on her face he cut it free, pulling the thick braid out of her mouth and dropping it on the floor. It was no longer attached to her head.  
“Be careful, Courier,” he warned, closing the knife and tucking it into his boot.  
“Yes Man! No one is to enter the building until I say so, nooneexceptSeth,” Vienna said, blurring the last words like an old world racing commentator. She hoped to hell that Mortimer hadn’t mentioned to Lanius that Vulpes was calling himself Seth now.  
“You got it!” chirped Yes Man cheerfully, not a care in the world.  
“What did you say?” Lanius’ eyes narrowed.  
“That no one is to enter the building until I say so, no exceptions. Like you said,” Vienna said neutrally.

A toilet could faintly be heard flushing, and a moment later Mortimer stepped over the bodies in the hallway and entered the room, buttoning his fly.  
“Ah, Vienna,” he said, smiling prissily. He approached the bed and manhandled Veronica into a sitting position, then sat facing her.

A tear rolled down Veronica’s face; whether of pain, fear, frustration, or just sadness at Sarah’s awful end, Vienna didn’t know. It was no good though.  
“Don’t cry,” growled Vienna, deliberately making herself sound threatening rather than comforting. Comforting Vero might make her cry more, and Mortimer and Lanius would like them to cry, she was sure of that. Like it too much.

Right on cue, Mortimer leaned forward and licked up the tear track on Veronica’s face, his tongue running right up to her eyeball. He shuddered in exaggerated pleasure, grunting and licking his lips with lewd affectation.

Faster than he could dodge, Vienna whipped her neck and smashed her forehead into Mortimer’s jaw, trying to break it. Mortimer was a known cannibal, and she and Veronica were trussed up like roasting birds. She wanted to prevent him from being able to bite or chew. Pain exploded in her head as the impact mingled with her injury from Lanius’ fist, and she gasped, wanting to scream but knowing it would be as bad an idea as crying. Someone was laughing. She opened her eyes and saw Lanius yukking it up as Mortimer reeled back, holding his jaw.

Vienna took a deep breath and roared, “Touch her again, I fucking dare you!” in an eardrum-shattering voice that filled the apartment and echoed back. Her eyes bored psychotically into Mortimer’s. She wanted to scare him and keep him off-balance, because right now she didn’t have too many weapons beyond the power of her voice. Mortimer froze and stared at her, the whites of his eyes showing all around his pupils.

She forced herself to ignore the throbbing pain in her head and think clearly. Protecting Veronica was her number one priority now. Getting out of this situation alive herself was secondary. Hurting Mortimer and Lanius were way down the list for the time being, only worthwhile if they assisted the first two priorities.  
Breathe.  
Wait and see what Lanius intends. Maybe turn him against Mortimer if the chance arises. Act compliant to get more liberties. Most important, protect Veronica at all costs.

She addressed Lanius, making her voice calm. “This woman is merely an employee. She has no relevance to this matter. Allow her to leave, and I will do whatever you wish.”  
Lanius snorted. “You think me a fool, Courier? I know who Veronica Santangelo is. She is much more to you than just a servant. She will stay here, and yes, you will do whatever I wish. If you don’t, she will be the one who takes your punishments.” He pushed one finger into Veronica’s eye, without taking his gaze off Vienna. Veronica shrieked.  
Vienna said, “Stop.”  
“Will you be good?”  
“Yes.”  
Lanius leaned very close and Vienna felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek. “If you displease me, even once, even in the smallest way, she will suffer, do you understand that?”  
“Loud and clear.”  
“Show some enthusiasm.”  
How the hell you demonstrate ‘enthusiasm’ for being tortured or raped or eaten or whatever Lanius had in mind, Vienna had no idea, but she tried her best. She made her voice sultry. “I will obey your every command with the utmost pleasure, my lord Lanius, son of Mars.” She hoped that his ego would lap it up, that her words didn’t sound as silly to him as they did to her. It was early in proceedings to be costing Vero her depth perception.

Apparently the ego ruled. Lanius nodded, looking satisfied.  
Mortimer wasn’t pleased. “Why can’t I have Santangelo? That was our deal.”  
“Don’t worry, Mortuus, you will get what you want, in good time.”

Vienna didn’t like the sound of that. She changed the subject before Lanius could make any more promises. “Was it you making radio broadcasts?” she asked Mortimer.  
He looked alarmed. “How did you know about that?”  
So, he had been the mystery voice. He had done a good job of disguising it; no one had recognised it in time. Vienna hadn’t even seriously considered him, she had been too busy trying to work out which Omerta it sounded most like. But it being Mortimer made sense, he had a good view of Vault 21 from the Ultra Luxe to spy on Alerio, and he had his own agenda to pursue, separate from that of Marjorie, his boss. Now Alerio and Sarah were dead. Vienna looked at their bodies slumped together and felt desperately sad for them. They had been in love. So much for double-dating.

Thinking of that made her wonder how far away Vulpes was now, and what would happen when he returned.  
“Where is your army?” she asked Lanius.  
He didn’t seem to mind answering. “On their way here, as I promised. I know Vulpes Inculta and two snipers are traveling to intercept them. No doubt they intend to assassinate me and my commanders.” He smiled mirthlessly. “It was not easy finding a slave tall enough to impersonate me. I had to make do. But it does not matter much.”  
“How far away are they now?” asked Vienna. When would Vulpes be back, to the rescue... or to meet Alerio’s fate.  
“I expect them to begin their assault on the city this evening,” answered Lanius, watching her closely, probably hoping to see fear in her eyes.

She didn’t give him the satisfaction, instead wondering what time it was now. Maybe four or five in the morning. She did some mental calculations. Vulpes should have found the army already. He might wait till dawn to identify and take out the targets. He may or may not realise he had been tricked. If he did, the fastest he could be back would be midday or early afternoon. She needed to keep Veronica and herself alive and well till then, at the very least.

“I admire your cunning, my lord Lanius.” A bit more ass-licking for good measure.  
“It is not cunning, it is simple logic. Vulpes Inculta has chosen a course of action that any sensible man would choose. But good sense is a weakness as much as a strength, for it can make a man predictable.”  
“You are quite right.” Vienna let her eyes roam approvingly over Lanius’ moustachioed face. He was quite ruggedly handsome, in a cruel sort of way. “Perhaps I made a mistake in choosing him.”  
Lanius looked amused. “Will you seduce me to save your own skin, now, Vienna of New Vegas?”  
Damn. For a nutcase he was quite perceptive. No going back now, though. She had precious few options; and she had to keep his attention on her, away from Veronica.  
“Can you blame me for finding you attractive, Legate?” she asked brazenly.  
“Is Vulpes Inculta no longer of interest to you?” he asked in return.  
“I valued him for his intelligence and strength. It seems to me you have beaten him on both counts. Vulpes is a little fox. You, my lord, are a lion.”  
Lanius eyed her thoughtfully. Vienna looked back at him with glowing eyes and lips slightly parted, her expression open. No guile at all.

Make or break, thought Vienna. Make it with Lanius, or let him break Veronica.  
 _Show some enthusiasm._

She wondered how much Lanius knew about Veronica. So far, he seemed uninterested in her, other than as a means of subduing Vienna. That was good, let him stay uninterested. Veronica was strong, but she was very petite, and if Lanius found out she had never been with a man, he might decide to do serious damage to her for the sheer hell of it.

Right now Veronica’s strength was of no use to her at all. She sat next to Vienna on the bed, tied in such a way that if she tried to move her arms or unbend her knees, a rope around her neck tightened. She was naked, but Vienna remembered that that was how she had been sleeping. She had never had time to dress, when the assault came.  
“Ok, Vero?” Vienna asked.  
Veronica, still gagged, made a small nod of the head. Her eyes looked badly frightened.  
“Attagirl.” Vienna made her voice sound calm and confident, as though she had a reason to know everything was going to be alright.

Mortimer’s jaw was swollen but Vienna’s effort to break it had failed. He fluttered too close, showing excitement. Lanius elbowed him away.  
“Go play in another room, Mortuus. Leave us. Take her if you want,” Lanius indicated the body of Sarah Weintraub. Mortimer frowned and slunk away. Things weren’t going his way but he seemed too afraid of Lanius to argue.

Vienna watched, swallowing her bile, as Sarah’s mangled body was dragged out of view. Better that than Veronica, she told herself.

She felt lightheaded, literally, and realised it was because her hair was gone. Not all of it, some chin-length locks were hanging in front of her face, but he must have cut her braid off close to the scalp at the back. No matter. He probably thought she cared a great deal about her hair, as it was so long, but in fact she hardly cared at all, that’s why she never bothered to have it cut. She hadn’t realised before how heavy it actually was or she might have.

Lanius closed the bedroom door behind Mortimer. He came back and stared thoughtfully at Vienna again.  
“Thinking about untying me?” she asked.  
“Thinking about it. Are you going to be good?”  
Vienna nodded truthfully. She’d be good, for Vero’s sake; unless and until she got a chance to reach a weapon.

She’d made a mental note of which boot his flick-knife was in. The ripper he had used in the grisly execution of Sarah was lying on the floor near the door. Vienna wasn’t especially proficient with melee weapons, a gun would be better, but none of her guns were readily usable. They were here in the bedroom cabinets, one of which was at the foot of her bed, but they weren’t loaded, and the ammo was in a separate cabinet. There were loaded guns, including Lucky and her Mauser, lying about in the billiards room and the group bunkroom for going out in a hurry with, but she didn’t keep a loaded gun under her pillow. She had never expected an attack in her own bedroom.

Lanius approached her and removed the bindings from her legs. He unfastened her baggy trousers and pulled them down over her hips and off, tossing them aside. She wore ancient, once-shiny boxer shorts underneath.

He perused her body in a proprietary manner, paying particular attention to the fresh scarring on her knee where Vulpes had shot her. “How did you get this?” he asked, lightly tracing a finger over it.  
“A cute boy shot me to get my attention,” she replied. Unwise, but screw him. He had no right to touch that.  
Lanius gave her an unreadable look, which slowly metamorphosed into a derisive smile.  
“Bullets buy your affection? You should have said.”  
“You’re not cute.” _Shut up,_ Vienna yelled internally at herself. She was undoing the intricate work she had just done to make him think she was willing to forsake Vulpes for him.  
“I thought you said I was.”  
She selected her words carefully. “Cuteness is for boys. You are a man.”

Lanius considered her but made no reply. He re-tied her right ankle loosely to the foot of the bed, and moved behind her to release her hands. They were greyish and completely without feeling now. She would not have been able to handle a weapon even if she was near one. As the blood crept back into them, her fingers started to sting intensely. Lanius stroked them, as though he knew they hurt and he liked that.

“That is all Vulpes had to do, shoot you?” he asked.  
“Actually he did something not unlike what you are doing now,” Vienna said.  
“Enlighten me.”  
“He held me captive, until he could convince me of his worthiness.”  
Lanius looked interested. “And how did he convince you of that?” His hand was back on her leg, his thumb caressing the sensitive scar tissue on her knee.  
“Have you seen him naked?” she said.

Lanius actually looked shocked for a split second, then scoffed. “I hardly believe you would happen to choose a man such as Vulpes Inculta to be your consort purely for his body.”  
“He has other qualities,” said Vienna nonchalantly.  
“You are a strange woman, Vienna of New Vegas.”  
There was nothing to say to that, so Vienna just smiled.

Lanius cupped her face with one huge hand and said, “Tell me, Courier. What do you think it is that he sees in you?”  
“We both know he sees power, Legate. There are incredibly powerful weapons based in this building. Whoever controls the Lucky 38 controls the Mojave, and I am the only person who can. The machine answers to no one else. So, whoever controls me...” she trailed off suggestively.  
He frowned when she used the word Legate. “You know, do you not, that now Caesar is dead, I am Caesar.”  
“Of course. _The king is dead; long live the king._ Just as you know that I am no longer the courier.”  
Lanius looked amused. “What title do you give yourself now?”  
“Well, most people call me ‘Boss’. Isn’t that right, Yes Man?” Vienna smiled challengingly into Lanius’ eyes.  
“Sure is, boss!” Yes Man chirped.  
Lanius’ mouth twitched but he didn’t laugh. “What does Vulpes Inculta call you?”  
There was no way Vienna was going to tell him that.  
“He calls me dear,” she lied. That did make Lanius laugh, a lot. His laugh was surprisingly warm and she found herself laughing along with him. After a while he stopped and gazed down at her body, his expression serious. He stroked a rough, heavily veined hand across her belly and let his fingertips glide just under the waistband of her shorts.  
“You give him such power purely because he pleases you in bed.”  
“Mm.”  
“And if you were to meet a man who could please you more?” His hands stroked an inch further down.  
“Mmm. But you have greater ambitions than just the Mojave, don’t you, my lord Lanius?”  
“Don’t you also, Vienna? You strike me as a singularly ambitious woman.”  
She only smiled, but her smile said yes.

They gazed at each other, and a kind of silent understanding grew between them.

Lanius reached over and touched her lips. She didn’t flinch. He pushed his index finger a little way into her mouth. She bit lightly on it, holding his gaze.

Lanius seemed to reach a decision. He pulled her black t-shirt up and off her arms, leaving it around her neck so that it covered her face. She could see lights and shadows through the material, but little else. Being blinded made her instantly nervous. She was also acutely aware of her bare breasts, now uncovered.

With unexpected gentleness, he manoeuvred her back into a lying position on the bed. Her shoulder was touching Veronica’s thigh. Lanius straddled Vienna’s hips and leant over her to tie her right wrist to the top of the bed, loosely enough that she could sit up if she wanted to, but not enough to get off the bed while her ankle was similarly tied. He smelled of sweat and blood, tinged with tobacco. It was oddly familiar, reminiscent of the way Boone sometimes smelt at the end of a hard day.

He moved the neck of the t-shirt up just far enough to expose her mouth, keeping her eyes covered. She felt his whiskers brush her lips, then his mouth pressed against hers, kissing and then licking, his tongue insistently pushing her mouth open. She tentatively licked his tongue. He tasted of pure testosterone.

She needed to satisfy him but it would be dangerous to act as though she were keen, he might see that as whorish. It was a fine, fine line between doing things to intrigue him and risking infuriating him. She licked his tongue again, and he made a low growl in his throat; she couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or anger.

They kissed for a little while. She felt his excitement growing in the increased urgency with which he kissed her. Abruptly he broke away and spoke. “You want to know what I want. My desire is simple. I want to take everything that Vulpes Inculta has away from him. I want to take his woman, in his own bed. I want to take his power, his possessions, his reputation, his legacy, and once he sees and fully understands what I have done, I want to take his life.”  
Vienna could not stop her hackles from rising. “What could he possibly have done to incur such wrath? He was loyal to Caesar to the last.”  
There was a pause, then Lanius said quietly, “You do not know the history between us.”  
“What. He snapped your elastic one too many times?” Vienna said carelessly.

That was a mistake. Lanius’ voice turned venomous. “You have quite a tongue on you, woman.” He reached into her mouth and took hold of her tongue, crushing it painfully. “I wonder that Vulpes has not cut it out yet.” He pulled it out and, panicking that he might be going to bite it off, Vienna struggled violently. Lanius let go of her tongue and slapped her hard on the bruised side of her head.  
“You would do well to remember your place,” he growled.  
“I am in my place. It is you who is out of place,” she said through gritted teeth. The slap had reignited the pain in her head, and her ear was ringing.  
She felt Lanius’ hand encircle her throat, very gently, and with perfectly conveyed menace.  
He said softly, “You have fire in your blood, and no fear in your heart; I admire that. But your insolence will win you no favour with me. Wherever your place is, you will find that my place is above you.”

As if to demonstrate his words, he rested his elbows on her shoulders and pressed his vast weight down on her. It hurt. He was frighteningly heavy, his body constructed of very developed, hard muscles over a massive bone structure.

Vienna knew he had a reputation for beheading armoured enemies with a single strike of his sword, and was even rumoured to tear apart slaves by hand. Don’t piss him off again, she warned herself. He had been playing nice so far, don’t mess with that. Make him like you. Persuade him to free you, wear him out, then when Vulpes arrives... try. One chance.

She wondered if she should order Yes Man not to let Vulpes in. Giving him entry would lead to his almost certain death. Especially if Yes Man failed to warn him that strange things were occurring in the suite. He might come home, expecting everything to be normal, and get ambushed. The elevator would ding, giving Lanius enough time to prepare himself.

Lanius interrupted her thoughts. “Do you understand that, Courier?” he asked, his face close to hers.  
“You are above me.”  
“Again.”  
“Your place is above me, Lanius Caesar, favoured son of Mars.”  
“And your place?”  
“Beneath you.”  
Lanius kissed her, with equal measures of passion and brutality. She forced herself to kiss him back. The material still covered her eyes, and she could only see him as a shadow against the lights. He could be any man. Pretend he is Vulpes. She kissed with more feeling.

_If I were alone here I would fight you to the death,_ Vienna thought. _I accepted death two nights ago, and I would honestly take it now rather than submit to you._

But death was not an option. He had already said he intended to keep her alive, and anyway she could not allow herself to betray Veronica. Everyone had their Achilles’ heel, and that was hers. She was morally compelled to use herself as a human shield, to protect a friend.

Lanius went still. Blindfolded, she saw only the outline of his head and shoulders, right above her. She couldn’t see his expression, making their game that much more difficult on her side.

She reached up and kissed him, on his mouth. He stayed still, lips slightly parted, and she kissed him as though she desperately wanted him. It was disturbing how easily it came to her to mimic sexual desire. Her kisses masqueraded as hasty and reckless but each one was calculated to induce increasing pleasure and excitement in him.

Still he didn’t respond and Vienna’s brain flashed up an image of the ripper, coated with blood and brain matter. This paper plane better fly or that will be Vero’s blood, she thought. You cannot falter. That’s what he’s waiting for, to see if this is a gambit. If you stop you will give the game away, and he will not be fooled twice. He is smarter than Benny was.

She kissed him more slowly and deeply, propped awkwardly on her tied wrist, her free hand stroking the side of his face and down his neck. She gently rubbed her face against his whiskers, sensually dragged her lower lip against his top lip, and gave a low sigh, loaded with desire.

Speaking kept getting her in trouble, but she decided to risk it again, needing to see his eyes to gauge his reactions, and needing him to see hers. She had a much better chance of coming across as genuine if she could lock eyes with him.  
“My lord, please let me see you,” she breathed. She pressed a slow kiss to his lips. “I wish to look upon your magnificence.” Uh oh, she thought, that might be overdoing it.

Far from it. Lanius lapped it up; for he, too, had a weakness: the size of his ego. It made Lake Mead look like a puddle.

He yanked the t-shirt off Vienna’s head and threw it aside. His eyes were fiery and Vienna saw that her efforts to tease and entice him had been successful. He was burning for her.  
“You wish to look upon me?” he said, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing powerful shoulders and an immense chest, decorated with scars and old bullet wounds. He removed his boots, and carried them away, dropping them near the ripper. He was wearing scuffed leather trousers, and he unbelted them and left them by the boots, keeping whatever was in his pockets away from her.

Naked, he strode back to the bed and stood over Vienna, looking down at her with a half-smile. He seemed to be waiting for her response, and Vienna didn’t have to fake her look of awe. He was more than well-endowed; his manhood was humungous.  
“Nature has been supremely generous to you.” Credit where credit was due.  
“So,” Lanius said. “Now you have seen both of us in the flesh. Tell me, who is finer?”  
The man seemed to have a serious jealousy issue with Vulpes. Vienna answered, “You are, by far, lord Lanius. There is no doubt about that.” She was unable to tear her eyes away from his erection. It was tremendously long and thick, and stood almost vertically. Gazing at it, Vienna felt her clitoris begin to pulse, without permission. She was getting wet, and it made her feel guilty, but maybe it was just as well. That monstrosity would not be easy to receive.

“Who do you prefer?” His eyes bore into her skull.  
“My lord, there is no question. Any woman would answer you.”  
Lanius looked irritated. “I am not interested in any woman. I am interested in you, Vienna, ‘Boss’ of the Mojave, wife of Vulpes Inculta.” He came closer and knelt on the bed next to her, still looming over her, lifting her chin so she looked into his eyes. “Do you want me?”  
No. “Yes.”  
“Do you still want your little fox?”  
Yes. “No.”  
“What will you do to prove your affection to your new master?”  
Vienna gazed up at his monolithic frame, haloed by light. “Whatever you desire, lord Caesar, son of Mars.”


	57. Chapter 57

Vulpes, Boone and Manny found the Legion battalion after midnight. The army was camped, with no fires lit, well hidden in a dark valley. Vulpes could hear them before he could see them, but even then there wasn’t much to give them away. Men coughing as quietly as they could, and the occasional bark of dogs. Very little other sound. Lanius hadn’t been lying, these were veterans. Recruits would have made a lot more noise.

The 38ers perched high above the Legion army, on the crest of the hillside. There was no easy way down to the army camp, which was good, it meant there was no easy way up. They rested, waiting for dawn when they would be able to see their targets.

“Would kill for night vision goggles,” whispered Boone softly, as he lay belly-down on the clifftop, looking through binoculars at the dark shapes below.

The men had hardly spoken since leaving New Vegas. There was bad blood between Manny and Vulpes, and Boone hadn’t felt like playing peacemaker.

They opened their food supplies, and ate in darkness.

Halfway through the meal, Vulpes spoke. He used a very low, soft voice that would not echo to the valley below.  
“I owe you this.” He held out something to Boone, who took it and had to study it closely in the moonlight to see that it was a fat roll of NCR folding money.  
“What’s this for?”  
“Mick told me.”  
Boone turned it over in his hands, then offered it back. “Forget it, you can take it as a wedding present.”  
Vulpes shook his head. Boone shrugged and trousered it.

Manny spoke through a mouthful of dried meat. “Hey Fox. You were third in line of succession, right, after Caesar and Lanius?”  
“Fourth. Lucius was before me.”  
“Lucius?” Manny didn’t know who that was.  
Boone said, “Doesn’t matter, he’s dead. Vero punched his lights out.” He smiled in the dark.  
Manny said, “Huh. So, Caesar and this Lucius are both dead, and we’re gonna kill Lanius soon as there’s enough light. That makes you Caesar.” He looked at Vulpes.  
Boone turned and looked at Vulpes too.  
“Succession in the Legion does not work like that. Each Caesar has the right to choose his own successor. Lanius will have chosen his. The only reason Lucius and I were ‘in line’ was in case the men above us died before there was time to choose.”  
Manny persisted, “What if Lanius hasn’t chosen? It’s only been a couple of weeks. He might not have gotten around to it yet.”  
Boone asked, “Could you take control of the Legion, Fox?” His voice sounded sharp-edged. Fox the ex-Legionary was tolerable. Vulpes Inculta the new Caesar was not something Boone was prepared to tolerate.

Vulpes bit off more meat and chewed slowly, thinking about it. The Legion stood on ceremony. They would willingly accept him as Caesar if it was done properly; but sniping his competition from afar then showing up and introducing himself as their new boss probably wouldn’t fly.  
“I am not a legionary anymore,” he said. “I doubt they would accept me.”  
“Don’t they have that thing where if you’re tough enough to kill the boss, you become the boss?” Manny asked.  
“Praetorians have that rule.”  
“So... wouldn’t that work?”  
“Why do you want me to become Caesar?”  
Boone said quietly, “You become Caesar and I’ll put a bullet in your brain.” He meant it, and Vulpes knew it.  
Manny appealed to Boone, “But listen, man. He could take control of a 900-man army. We could kick some serious ass with that many men.”  
“We? Don’t kid yourself, Manny,” said Boone.  
“I thought you trusted him now.”  
“I don’t trust anyone in charge of 900 psychopaths.”  
Vulpes said, “They are not psychopaths. They are disciplined men. Most of them,” he added.  
“Whatever.” Boone put away the remains of his dried meat and started clearing a place to lie down. The conversation was over.

They drew straws to see who would keep watch while the other two slept. Manny lost, but Vulpes and Boone both offered to swap with him; neither expected to be able to sleep. Too much adrenaline flowing. Manny accepted Vulpes’ offer, and went to sleep almost immediately. Boone lay down and went to sleep too, but thirty-nine minutes later he woke up, and crawled to join Vulpes at the cliff edge.

The night was eerily silent. There was no wind. The moon was up but had moved too far toward the horizon to shine any light on the men camped in the bottom of the ravine now. It was lighting the clifftop however, and they were careful not to move in a way that could be seen by anyone keeping watch from below.

They watched in silence for a full hour before Boone spoke again.  
“Wanna ask you something that’s bothering me.”  
“Mm?”  
“Why did you marry Kate?”  
Vulpes turned and looked at Boone, without saying anything.  
Boone looked steadily back. “Do you love her?”  
“You think I don’t?”  
Boone was silent. In the moonlight each others' eyes only appeared as black pools.  
Vulpes said softly, “I love Kate more than anything. More than life itself.”  
“Why?”  
Vulpes didn’t know how to explain. How thinking of her had gotten him through his early training in the Legion, and how, much later, she had saved him. How he felt like he was his own man when he was with her; no longer a slave, but not nothing either.  
He looked up at the stars. “When I kidnapped her, I thought I was capturing her. But she was rescuing me.”  
Boone thought about that. He could relate.

Silence reigned, until half an hour or so later, when Boone said, “You gonna do what Manny said?”  
“No. Some of them might be recruitable for a militia to protect New Vegas, though.”  
“Without the dogma?”  
“Mm. Not much point in that anymore.”  
“You don’t believe in that anymore?”  
Vulpes was silent for a while, then he said, “I still believe in some of it... but...”  
A long pause. Boone waited.  
“Some of our methods were wrong. Some of the things I did... I regret.”  
“Changed your tune since we last talked about it.”  
“Yes.”

Silence reigned again. Far off, a nightstalker howled, and the sound echoed off the canyon walls.  
Vulpes said, without turning his head, “I am sorry for choosing Carlito’s mother. I deeply regret that, now.”  
Boone said nothing.

Slowly, the eastern sky lightened. Boone nudged Manny with a foot to wake him up. They studied each of the men who straggled to the ravine walls to pee between the rocks, but couldn’t see the Legate or identify which men were in command. As soon as there was just enough light to be able to march fast without tripping, the Legate’s army got on the move. They started slowly, eating rations as they marched, but after a quarter of an hour or so their pace quickened.

Vulpes and the two snipers ran ahead for an hour, to position themselves for a good view of the army as they approached. Vulpes stared hard through binoculars. He caught sight of a flash of gold. The Legate’s mask.  
“I see him.” He described where.  
Boone and Manny spotted him through their scopes and got into firing positions. They were both going to shoot, while Vulpes acted as spotter, looking for who issued commands when Lanius fell.  
The army came closer at a fast pace. They were half running now, moving much faster than NCR troops would, and Boone and Manny focused furiously on the man in the mask.  
Vulpes felt a prickling sensation at the back of his scalp. Something was off. The Legate did not look right. He seemed smaller than he should be, taller than the men around him but not by enough. He should be a head taller, but he was half that. Was he surrounded by unusually tall men? His body looked wrong too, he was wearing the right armour, but it hung loosely on him.  
Boone suddenly gave a word, and he and Manny fired almost simultaneously. The Legate flew back a couple of feet and hit the ground. Nothing changed. One man picked up the Legate’s mask and carried it, the men behind just ran over the body and kept the same pace. No one barked any orders.  
“That is not the Legate,” said Vulpes. Fear and adrenaline swept over him.  
“Decoy. Which one is he, then?” said Manny.  
Vulpes replied in a voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t think he is here.” A horrible thought was coming to the boil in the back of his mind. Without another word he leapt to his feet and ran full tilt in the direction of New Vegas.

Boone and Manny looked at each other then scrambled up to run after Vulpes.  
“What the fuck?” yelled Manny as they ran.  
Boone just shook his head. He didn’t know, but the way Vulpes was acting, he was starting to suspect. Lanius was already in New Vegas.  
They ran hard out, but they could not catch Vulpes. He was a fast runner, and in peak condition. Boone was in good condition too, but not used to running so fast for long. Manny was no longer fit, having lived the quiet life in Novac for too many months.  
Vulpes got a long way ahead. Manny was struggling and Boone was in a quandary. Stay with Manny or run ahead?  
“Manny! You be ok if I go ahead?” he queried.  
“Yeah,” Manny panted. He stopped to catch his breath.  
Boone handed him some items to lighten his own load and said, “Walk. Keep your eyes open. I’ll see you back in Vegas.”  
Manny wasn’t wildly keen on being left alone but he needed a rest, so he agreed, and Boone gave him a quick one-armed hug and ran after Vulpes, who was so far ahead now he was just a dot.


	58. Chapter 58

Veronica Santangelo could only watch as her dear friend humiliated herself.

She knew that Vienna was doing it to protect her, but she still wished she wouldn’t. It was so unlike Vienna to show grovelling obeisance that to witness it was actually more appalling than the thought of facing Lanius herself. She tried to catch Vienna’s eye to implore her to stop, and let whatever followed happen; but Vienna was taking care not to look at her.

Lanius was paying no attention to Veronica either, despite the fact that she was right next to him, stark naked. He was fixated on Vienna, gripping the sides of her head and pulling her mouth to his, roughly kissing her and grunting with lust. Vienna ran her fingers through his coarse hair, gripping a handful of it and simultaneously arching her back to press her bare breasts to his chest, simulating lust of her own. He took her cue and moved his mouth to her breasts, rubbing his face in them and biting her nipples.

While he was thus distracted, Vienna tried to send a warning to Vulpes. She planned to say, _Yes Man, tell anyone who asks that I am not receiving visitors as I have a special guest_ , fairly innocent-sounding she thought, but five words into it Lanius’ hand clamped down hard over her mouth.  
“Shut. Your. Mouth,” he snarled. Vienna nodded under his hand. “You try to give another order to your machine and you will be gagged and Santangelo will lose an eye, I won’t warn you again. Understand?” His fingers dug painfully into her cheek, and she nodded again fast. “Then she will lose all her teeth. After that I will let Mortuus loose on her.”

Vienna made a little whimpering sound. He released his deathclaw-like grip and she gasped, “Forgive me, I apologise, lord Lanius, I will not make any more mistakes.”  
He stared at her, eyes narrowed and one corner of his mouth curled up. Shaking his head slowly, he said, “You do not make mistakes, I think, Vienna. No, there is forethought in everything you do.”  
“If that were true, Mortimer would not be in my apartment right now.”  
Lanius leant close and whispered, “Perhaps he is here because you wanted me to be here.”  
Vienna blinked. His ego was astonishing. She didn’t trust herself to make any safe reply to that, and was almost relieved when he busied himself again with her breasts.

He sucked much too hard on her nipple, and it hurt intensely. Vienna drew a sharp intake of breath and Lanius mistook it for pleasure. “You like my touch,” he murmured. His fingers trailed down to her sex and, with no effort at foreplay, plunged inside her.  
“So wet for me already,” he said with amusement, jabbing his fingers in and out artlessly.  
 _You have no clue what you’re doing,_ thought Vienna. “Of course,” she said in her sultriest voice.  
Lanius smiled nastily. “You are about to be granted a great honour, Vienna of New Vegas.”  
“I am humbled.”  
“Two great honours, indeed. The first is that I will fuck you. The second is that I will let you live. No other woman is alive to say the same. Do you know how many women I have fucked to death, Vienna?”  
“Uh. Lots and lots?”  
“48.” He watched her intently, scanning for fear in her eyes.  
“Ah.” Her eyes betrayed nothing.  
“The rest, I killed afterwards. But you, I will let live. That is a unique honour.”  
“Perhaps you will fuck me to death, Lanius Caesar.”  
“We shall see. If you die it will be because you are not worthy of me, but I think you are strong enough to survive.”  
Morbid curiosity got the better of Vienna. “How exactly did you fuck them to death?”  
“Internal haemorrhaging.”  
“Ah.”  
“Yes.” Lanius’ vicious smile showed again. His huge fingers stabbed harder into her, and she shifted her hips, trying to make the angle better. Again he mistook her reaction for pleasure. “You like being penetrated. Do you want me inside you?”  
“I want anything it gratifies you to offer me, lord Caesar.”

Next to her, Veronica suddenly started struggling and jerking her limbs. The rope around her neck tightened and she began to asphyxiate. She fell sideways off the bed and out of Vienna’s view onto the floor, still struggling and further tightening her ligature.

“Vero, don’t!” cried Vienna. She saw all too clearly what her friend was doing; suiciding so Lanius could no longer use her as a voodoo doll to enforce acquiescence.

Lanius reached over and pulled Veronica back up. He sat on top of her, effectively ending her efforts to struggle, untied her ropes and pulled off her gag. She gasped for breath automatically. It is one thing to intellectually want to kill yourself, but the body has a strong instinct to survive, and Veronica could not stop herself sucking in desperate breaths. Her throat was bruised and the swelling was inhibiting her airflow, making her wheeze.

Vienna said gently, “Vero, please don’t. I’m alright. Really. Just take it easy, ok?”  
Veronica looked at Vienna and burst into tears. She tried to speak but was wheezing and sobbing too much to be intelligible. Vienna knew what she meant to convey nonetheless. _Stop shaming yourself on my behalf. Better for us to die now with integrity than live a few more hours, debased._  
“Don’t worry about me, Vero honey, I’m tough, you know that,” Vienna said as soothingly as she could. “I won’t be number 49,” she added for Lanius’ benefit, pretending that the issue was something other than what it was.

Lanius looked annoyed in a bored sort of way. He pushed Veronica onto her back on the bed, and tied her to the bedframe in such a manner that she could no longer do any damage to herself. She was on pillows and couldn’t even bang her head against anything hard. She kept sobbing, and he gagged her again, forcing her to snort through her nose. It was awful, and Vienna blinked slowly, wishing that when she opened her eyes this would not be happening.  
“It’s ok, Vero,” she repeated helplessly. “I love you.”  
Veronica cried harder.

Lanius gripped Vienna by the jaw and turned her head back to face him. “Do not speak to her,” he commanded. Then he cracked a smile. “So, the story about you and Santangelo is true.”  
Vienna raised one eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but she is an employee and a friend.”  
Lanius laughed his oddly warm laugh again. “And what is it you employ her to do for you? Or... to you?”  
“What are you suggesting?”  
“Come now. You must know it’s said around this town that she prefers females, and that you and she-” he broke off to make an obscene gesture with his hands and tongue.  
Vienna scoffed. “If Mortimer told you that, he’s full of shit. Veronica is in a relationship with one of my snipers.”

Lanius gave a lopsided grin, obviously disbelieving her, but said nothing. His attention returned to Vienna’s body. He looked at her for a while, then pushed her legs apart again, and knelt between them. He pulled her up so she straddled his lap, her chest against his. His insanely long, thick cock pressed against her belly and peeked between her breasts. Vienna noticed that he smelled different without his clothes, less of blood and tobacco, more of sweat and something else very masculine. His body was much hairier than Vulpes’, but he gave off the same burning heat.

Vienna was plenty big as women went, only an inch or two shorter than Vulpes, but Lanius at more than a foot taller dwarfed her. He gripped her ribcage and lifted her so easily she felt like a doll. He dangled her high over his groin and she felt his cock pushing up underneath her. Looking into her eyes, he lowered her down onto it, mercifully letting gravity set the pace. Her body accepted it very slowly, and stopped, full, before he was fully sheathed. He lifted and lowered her a second time, and a third, and she took more in each time.

Lanius lifted her a fourth time, and suddenly slammed her down hard. Vienna’s mouth formed an O but she couldn’t let herself scream. He slammed her down again and again, grinning at her. Vienna felt a strange sensation deep inside. Not pain exactly, but not good either. Her head started to throb again where he had punched her.

 _Slam. Slam. Slam._ Being shaken like a cocktail was making her dizzy, and combined with the sharp pain in her head and dull ache in her belly she started to think she might pass out. He slammed her down relentlessly, and her vision blackened round the edges.  
“Stop!” she gasped.  
Lanius just grinned wider and slammed harder. Blackness overtook her.

A few seconds or maybe minutes later she found herself lying face down, her ass in the air. Lanius was behind her, holding her up by the hips, positioning himself for entry. She pulled herself together and propped herself up on her elbows.  
“You were out for a minute there, Vienna,” said Lanius conversationally. His fingers stroked up her inner thighs, rubbed her entrance and penetrated her. He pulled her open and rubbed her inner walls. Then his oversized cock pushed its way into her and he hissed out a breath of deep pleasure as it slid fully in. He was so long that he reached a place in her body that she was pretty sure shouldn’t be reached. He began to thrust, a little gentler now, if gentle could describe being forcibly taken by an rpg. His strokes were even and powerful and made a wet sound each time his hips smacked up against Vienna’s ass.

Next to her, Veronica started humming. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut. She didn’t want to see or hear any more. Vienna recognised the tune with a wrenching feeling in her heart; it was Blue Moon, the song Seth had sung so beautifully to Carlito.  
“Shut up Vero, please,” she said desperately. She could not bear to hear that song, not now.

The humming stopped, but it was too late, Vienna felt momentarily overwhelmed by sadness. Seth was lost to her.

 _I love you Seth Dove_ , she said silently in her mind, trying to send the message to him, wherever he was. She was still wearing her wedding ring, and she rubbed it with her thumb, forcing herself to think of Seth and nothing else. He’s here now. It is him behind you, inside you, hurting you. As she thought it, and made herself believe it, the hurt subsided and was replaced with pleasure. She pushed back into it, matching the rhythm.

Lanius ruined the illusion by talking. “You like this.”  
She didn’t reply.  
“You’re hungry for me.”  
She still said nothing.  
He growled, “How does it feel, to be fucked by Caesar?”  
You tell me, she thought.  
“Answer me!” He reinforced the order with a particularly brutal thrust.  
“It is a great honour.” She wished he would shut up. Seth rarely spoke during sex, other than to murmur occasional requests. Pity Lanius didn’t have the same ethic.

He wouldn’t shut up. “Say my name.”  
“Lanius.”  
“Again!” he shouted, jerking her head back by her hair, and ramming himself into her frighteningly hard.  
“Lord Lanius Caesar, son of Mars!” she choked out.  
He pulled her head so far back her neck felt like it might snap. His voice came from between his teeth. “I am the son of the god of war. You are being fucked by a _GOD!_ Tell me! How does that feel?”  
“It feels heavenly,” said Vienna with barely disguised sarcasm. If he picked up on it he didn’t show any sign. He slammed a few more times into her and then pulled out and flipped her over. He pulled her head to his cock and forced himself roughly into her mouth. Her jaw was pushed so wide it felt about to dislocate. He shoved further in and pressed against her pharynx, preventing her breathing.

“You take me well, Courier,” he said more calmly. “Surprisingly well. I am impressed at your resilience. But there is more, much more to come.” He pulled out to let her answer.  
Vienna gasped for breath. “I cannot breathe when you do that.”  
“I know.” He pushed back in, cutting off her airflow again. This time he held it in so long that she started to asphyxiate. She panicked, trying in vain to jerk her head back and thrashing when he wouldn’t let her. Just as the darkness started to overtake her again he pulled out and let her gasp for oxygen. He had a playful smile on his face.  
“That’s not fucking funny,” she panted.  
His smile became a grin. “Except it is. You want more?”  
“No thank you.”  
“Wrong answer.”  
Vienna closed her eyes. She felt her resolve weakening. Maybe she should tell him to go fuck himself, and damn the consequences.  
“Look at me.”  
Her brow furrowed and she couldn’t bring herself to obey him for a few moments, until she heard Veronica groan miserably.

Opening her eyes she saw Lanius had stuck his fingers inside her friend. Adrenaline surged furiously into Vienna’s bloodstream. She forced herself to stay outwardly calm, and dropped the expression of abhorrence from her face.  
“Your friend is very dry,” Lanius said. “Men do not please her, I suppose.” He kept his eyes on Vienna’s and shoved harder into Veronica, who groaned again. “Do you want me to fuck her?”  
“No. Please stop.”  
He took his fingers out of Veronica and put them into Vienna’s mouth. “Dry, no?” he said.  
She nodded and took his hand away. “Too dry for you, Lord Caesar. Stay with me.” She kissed his hairy chest and made her voice sultry again. “I am so, so wet for you. Tell me what you desire.”

Lanius stared at her for a while then shouted “Mortuus!”  
“No!” Vienna cried, horrified. “Please don’t, not him.”  
“Relax, little Courier, he is not for her. He is to help me with you. Mortuus!”  
Mortimer could not hear, because with the door closed the bedroom was soundproof. He didn’t arrive and Lanius got up to look for him, arming himself with the ripper. Vienna watched him open the bedroom door and look cautiously around before he went out of view.

Alerio still lay just outside the doorway, where he had fallen. Vienna noticed that his eyes were closed. She could have sworn they were open before.

Lanius came back trailing Mortimer behind him. Mortimer’s hands were darkly streaked with drying blood. They approached Vienna and untied her wrist and ankle from the bed. Her heart started to beat chaotically, like she’d overdosed on Coyote Tobacco Chew.

Lanius held her up in the air by one ankle and tucked it into the crook of his neck. Upside down, she clutched the bottom of the bedframe with both hands. Under Lanius’ instruction Mortimer grasped her other ankle and held it at his waist level, moving a few steps away so her legs were far apart. Lanius readjusted his grip so her entrance was at precisely the right height and eased his cock into her.

The angle might have been good for him but it was brutal for her. He drove in so deeply it felt like he would pierce a lung. Lanius growled and gasped as he smashed into her. Gravity was her enemy now, every time he punched into her she swung away and came back again, doubling the impact.

Mortimer was cackling and shouting encouragement to Lanius. Vienna didn’t look at their faces. Veronica was humming again, not a song but just a loud ‘nnnnng’ monotone. Vienna focused on the sound. Vero was still alive, and - relatively - unharmed. That was the point of this exercise. _Nnnnnnnng_. This isn’t happening. Just a really bad dream.

Being upside down was making her blood rush into her brain, and she felt dizzy and hoped she would pass out again, but blissful unconsciousness eluded her this time. On and on it went. Lanius had the stamina of an ox, and he never seemed to ejaculate. He just stayed hard, seemingly forever.

When she felt she could take no more lest her hips dislocate, she said in a small voice, “Put me down, please.”  
“I am not finished with you.” Lanius carried her to the wall and pushed her up against it. He started to fuck her again, crushing her against the wall. Vienna’s legs felt numb. She let her mind go blank for a while. Then she remembered Veronica with a start and looked over to check she was alright, and not being molested by Mortimer. It was ok, she appeared to be asleep. Mortimer was sprawled on the bed using Veronica as a pillow, jerking off, leering at Vienna.

Lanius stopped, still sheathed inside her, and carried her to the bed. “Get off,” he said, kicking Mortimer, who let go of himself and scrambled off.  
“Get back to your room,” Lanius ordered. Mortimer left, closing the door behind him.

Still inside her, still rock hard, Lanius lay Vienna down on the bed, half on top of her, half on his side. He thrust very slowly in and out of her.  
“Don’t you ever come?” she asked.  
“Only when I want to.”  
“Why don’t you want to?”  
“Because I want to stay hard.”  
Vienna was surprised at his frankness. Seth could come repeatedly and stay hard. Seemed Lanius was lacking in that ability. On the other hand, Lanius could resist orgasm and stay hard as hell even if he fucked for hours and hours. That was a superpower in itself, she supposed.

Lanius was looking deeply into her eyes. She looked back at him, wondering what he was planning next.  
He surprised her again. “I like you very much, Vienna.”  
“Why?” she couldn’t help asking.  
He just looked at her, his cock gliding smoothly in and out, in and out. It felt roasting hot. She felt bruised. He leant forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, closing his eyes for a second as he did.  
“You take me well,” he said, reiterating something he had said earlier. “Like no other before. You are not even bleeding. I intended to make you my slave, but I think I will make you my wife.”  
“I am already married.”  
“Your marriage to Vulpes is not real.”  
“Hm. Seemed pretty real at the wedding. I remember it like it was yesterday.”  
“It is not real. It was not consecrated by priestesses.”  
“It wasn’t a Legion wedding.”  
“There you are wrong again. Vulpes is a legionary. A bad one, perhaps, but he is Legion and will always be. If he wishes to marry, he needs my permission, and he needs it to be performed by priestesses.”  
Vienna could think of nothing to say to that.

Lanius shifted his position slightly so he could put his arms around her. It felt obscenely affectionate, somehow much worse than his cock moving inside her. He looked at her thoughtfully. After a while he said, “Do you think you know him?”  
“I’m guessing you’re going to tell me I don’t.”  
“Answer my question.”  
“I think I know one side of him.”  
“How many sides do you think he has?”  
“You tell me.”

Lanius looked at her piercingly. Then he snorted. “Let me tell you a few things about Vulpes Inculta.”  
“Don’t bother. Not interested.” Vienna looked sideways, at the bulge of his bicep. There was an old, blurry tattoo under the scars but she couldn’t make out what it was of. Lanius sat up and pulled her onto his lap, the same position he had first taken her in, and held the back of her head with one hand so she had to face him. She looked at his throat and pictured cutting it.  
“Look at me.”  
Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his, and found him staring intensely at her. When he spoke his voice had a mocking quality.  
“Are you afraid of what I might tell you about your little pet?”  
“No. I’m just not interested in him anymore,” Vienna lied.  
“I think you are. Vulpes’ primary skill is the spell he can cast over his targets. You have been hypnotised, like many before you, and it takes longer than this for the trance to wear off.”  
Vienna gazed at the tattoo again, trying not to think. She saw what Lanius was trying to do. He was pricking at her most sensitive nerves, with disturbing accuracy.

Lanius pushed her down onto her belly, flat on the bed. He sat behind her, on her thighs, and leaned forward over her back to stroke her shorn hair, trailing his fingers down her neck, down her back and over the curve of her rump. He began to caress her buttocks and thighs. The idea of what he might be going to do next made Vienna’s insides tingle in excitement. The touch of his fingers, getting slowly closer to the apex of her thighs, sent a wave of goose bumps sweeping through her nervous system and the tension forced an audible breath out of her that sounded embarrassingly inviting.

“So soft,” Lanius murmured wonderingly. He parted her cheeks and caressed between them with his large hands. Vienna felt the telltale feeling that meant she was getting wet again.

“No doubt he tells you he loves you,” he murmured. He moistened the fingers of his right hand in her vulva, and began to rub his middle finger against her ass hole. Vienna’s heart started beating very fast.  
“You may feel his love vividly, but it is an illusion.” The finger went in a little way. “Here is the first thing you need to know.” Vienna made an involuntary gasp as the finger slid slowly and inexorably all the way inside her, till the knuckles of his fist were pressed against her. He held it still for a moment. “Vulpes Inculta loves no one but himself.”  
He slowly withdrew, all the way.

“The second thing you need to know, is that Vulpes Inculta will do _anything_ , even turn against his friends, to further his own ends.” Lanius began to probe her rear entrance again, this time with two fingers.  
Vienna’s voice came out a whisper. “What do you mean?”  
The fingers slowly pressed in, deeper and deeper, till both were fully inside her. It felt incredible.  
“Have you ever heard of the Malpais Legate?” he asked unexpectedly.  
“Yes. The Burned Man.”  
“You know the story?”  
“Yes.”  
Lanius laughed softly, without humour. “The story is widely known but the truth is not.”  
The fingers pulled slowly out. With an illicit thrill she felt Lanius preparing her for a third finger.

“Vulpes Inculta was the architect of the Malpais Legate’s downfall, in pursuance of an inexplicable personal vendetta, and he did it even though it cost us Hoover Dam, plus a vast number of our men, including many of our best officers, and put the Legion’s progress back more than _four years_.”  
Three slippery fingers began slowly to make their way into her tight space. He went on, “He did that knowing what would happen.”  
Vienna was stunned, both by what he was doing to her and what she was hearing. “Why didn’t you tell Caesar that?”  
“I did. He had Caesar under the same thrall he has you. Caesar was unable to believe it. He could believe nothing ill of Vulpes.”  
Vienna thought about it for a moment. She said, “Still... battle tactics fall under the Legate’s remit and the resulting defeat was ultimately the Legate’s responsibility.”  
“That is precisely what Caesar said.”

Slowly he pulled his fingers back a couple of inches, then pushed them firmly in all the way, getting a small gasp from her, and repeating the motion, getting a gasp each time his knuckles pressed up against her rump. Vienna shuddered in pain and pleasure.

“Vulpes gives the impression of great dedication, but in reality he does not obey orders. He does whatever he wants,” Lanius said. He stroked one finger of his other hand in her sex. “What he actually wants is a mystery, even to me. I sometimes think it is a mystery to himself.” The finger slowly entered her cunt.  
“I have known for some time that I am next on Vulpes’ hit list.” The finger pushed further in, as the others continued to thrust smoothly into her. “He wishes me dead, and he intended to use you to help him.” The finger was all the way in now. He held it there a moment, then pulled it out. “And you were helping him. Of course you were. Everyone does what Vulpes Inculta wants them to do.”  
Vienna said, “I would have fought your army with or without him at my side.” It sounded weak, even to her.  
Lanius pushed the wet finger back into her soaked pussy together with a second one. The feeling of his long, thick fingers stroking inside both of her holes was delectable, and Vienna moaned softly, moving against him and clenching him inside her. Lanius obliged her by thrusting the two fingers a little deeper.

“Vulpes was trying to poison Caesar’s mind against me. Perhaps he would eventually have succeeded, if you had not intervened and killed Caesar before anything could come of it.” Lanius started pushing a third finger in, making it three fingers in each hole. She felt his breath hot on her ass, and he kissed her buttocks as he penetrated her.

“Did you not find it notable, Vienna, that it was Vulpes himself who approached you with Caesar’s Mark? The errand was simple enough. Why would Caesar’s highest-ranking political advisor lower himself to act as a humble delivery boy? There can be no doubt it was he who persuaded Caesar to take the fatal risk with you.” Lanius spoke ardently, but his touch remained gentle.

Vienna did not reply, and he continued, “Was it not extraordinary that when you attacked the Fort, Vulpes allowed you to kill Caesar, right before his eyes? And within a week of that event, he was in your bed, posing as your lover, no doubt saying he had renounced the Legion’s ways?”  
“He did not renounce,” panted Vienna. It was damned hard to carry out a coherent conversation when he was doing these things to her. She struggled to gather her thoughts and to speak without gasping between words. “Nor did he simply ‘allow’ me to kill Caesar. He fought. He killed one of my best men, and crippled me.”  
“Yet the end result is the same,” Lanius said.  
He started to push a fourth finger into her hot wet pussy. It was a very tight squeeze, but he worked it in patiently and irresistibly, taking care not to tear her. The fourth finger went all the way in. She was stretched wide and felt breathtakingly exposed. It didn’t hurt, though. He was thrusting surprisingly gently; it felt almost transcendent.

“Nothing Vulpes does is random. I’d wager he had a reason to want that man dead, and it is obvious he crippled you to better take control of you,” he said.  
Vienna didn’t reply. Despite herself, she couldn’t help wondering if Vulpes’ account of Arcade’s death had been entirely accurate. Had he targeted Arcade specifically, as the person most likely to argue her out any liaison with him?

Lanius was kneading her like she was dough. He said, “Vulpes is a law unto himself. He respects no authority. You are tragically naive if you think he respects yours. But he keeps everything hidden, he doesn’t have the guts to show his hand in the open. I outrank him, yet for no clear reason he took every opportunity to thwart me. He used to sneak into villages I planned to take, the night before my assault, and assassinate the women I wanted for myself, out of spite. Petty, no?”  
Vienna thought that was pretty ironic.  
“He would say nothing, but I knew it was him,” Lanius continued. “He is crazed with jealousy of me. Physically. Sexually. He envies my status, my power, my superiority. He is jealous of me in every respect. And now you understand why, don’t you, Courier?” He thrust his fingers in deeply and Vienna moaned long and low.

“Get on your knees,” he whispered, shifting off her thighs and kneeling between her legs. His fingers smoothly continued their thorough invasion of her. She found herself desperately wanting his cock back inside her pussy. She raised herself onto her knees, and when his erection drove forcefully into her, she made a moan that was closer to a wail. The feeling of both her holes being stretched to their limit and Lanius’ long cock pounding deep inside her was so intoxicating that she forgot about everything else and was reaching a state close to ecstasy. She exhaled in rhythm with his thrusts, seeing stars and hearing the rushing of her blood.

“You have the sweetest cunt, Vienna of New Vegas,” Lanius said softly. “Always wet, and so snug, yet so accommodating. To see your flesh taut around me is a beautiful sight. I’m going to fuck you without respite until my army arrives, and when we have taken the city, I’m going to ceremonially fuck you in front of them all.”  
Vienna didn’t answer. She was hardly listening. Waves of glorious pleasure were radiating through her one after another, each more exquisite than the last. Lanius felt her muscles crushing his fingers, and paused till she rode it out, before slipping them out of her and moving his hands to her hips for more traction.

Exhausted, Vienna wanted to flop down on the bed, but he held her up and continued thrusting.  
He resumed his conversation. “It is a tradition of mine. Have you heard how it is performed? I stand on a raised platform, facing my troops. The front steps of this building will do very well. Four of my lieutenants will suspend you in front of me by your limbs, facing upwards. Your head will be close to the crowd, so they can see your expression, and you can see theirs. Your legs will be wide apart, on either side of me, and the men will impale you on me, and shunt you back and forth. Simple, no? But effective. By this method I can fuck you punishingly hard while standing perfectly still. I shall give a victory speech to my army, even as you are publicly fucked to within an inch of your life. My troops always find the ceremony very... moving.”  
“It sounds suitably degrading,” Vienna said, her voice muffled by bedding.  
“Oh it is, that is part of the design; but do not fret, my fine woman, your humiliation will end there. You will be spared the second part, where normally my lieutenants would get to tear you open for their own pleasure.”  
“And the third part, where what’s left of me would subsequently be handed over to the rest of the men?”  
“Quite. That will not occur either. You are for me alone. The men will be overly excited, but it is no matter. There are many women in this city, and they will take every single one, as many times as they want, till they are sated.”  
“I feel so special.”  
Lanius laughed and his voice became almost kindly. “But you are special, Vienna. You are magnetic, people follow you and obey you without question. You told the NCR to leave and they left. You had the prowess to take the Fort and kill the old Caesar, and more impressively all of his praetorian guard, with a six-man unit. You have intrinsic power, and exceptional ability, and I respect that.”  
“Yet here you are, bending me over your knee.”  
“On the contrary, it is a testament to your charm that I have decided to upgrade your status from pitiable sex slave to wife.”  
“Is there a difference between those roles for women in the Legion?”  
“You will not be just any wife, Vienna of New Vegas. You will be the daughter-in-law of Mars himself. We will fight our way to the west together, and you will become empress of New Reno and then San Francisco. Eventually, we will smash the NCR. Does that idea appeal to you? I know General Lee Oliver is no friend of yours. Wouldn’t you like to watch me crucify him?”  
“You do realise, Lord Lanius, that your proposed use of me is uncannily parallel to the plans Vulpes was already putting in motion? Perhaps you and he are not so dissimilar as you think.”

Lanius said nothing but his handling abruptly became rough. He jerked her backwards onto his erection and simultaneously smashed his hips forward, trying to go deep enough to inflict pain, and succeeding; he was again reaching that place that shouldn’t be reached, and Vienna groaned in acute discomfort each time he hit it.  
“Liken me to him again and I will hurt you very badly, Courier,” he said between gritted teeth, his voice venomous. He sat back on his heels and pulled her backwards onto his lap, his chest against her back and his cock still deep inside her.  
He spoke directly into her ear, “Sooner or later Vulpes Inculta will show up in New Vegas, and then I will take great pleasure in disemboweling him and stringing his still-breathing body up for all to see. I will have his penis cut off and forced down his throat, and I will make you watch.”

Suddenly Vienna couldn’t play this game anymore. She had been playing along, making herself enjoy it, but now she couldn’t tolerate another second.  
“Let go of me,” she said flatly.

Veronica Santangelo, pretending to be asleep, heard the change in Vienna’s tone of voice, and instantly braced herself for the incoming shitstorm. She knew Vienna, and that voice meant that the situation was about to go ballistic in an inter-continental kind of way.  
Good, thought Veronica, no longer afraid. About time.


	59. Chapter 59

The midmorning sun beat down on Vulpes, and he shook his head, flicking sweat off the tips of his hair. He ran at a fast, even pace, concentrating on his footing and his breathing. He took the fastest route and didn’t worry about who might see him. Few raiders or critters would bother to chase someone moving as quickly as he was, and if they did, well he had the scoped magnum .44, That Gun and Chance at his disposal.

The spire of the Lucky 38 became visible in the distance. It was still a good hour and a half away, but the sight of it gave him renewed vigour, and he breathed easier. 

One thing was certain. Lanius would not be sitting around in Flagstaff, letting his army do the dirty work for him. That was not the Legate’s way; where there was blood to be shed he would always be in the vanguard. He wasn’t the type to send forward battle orders from a safe position at the back. Lanius was always in front, and the fact that he was not with his army now could only mean that he was ahead of them. Which meant that he was in or around the New Vegas area already; likely watching the Lucky 38, ready to ambush and abduct Kate the moment she ventured outside.

Vulpes prayed to Venus that Kate had not left the Lucky 38. Inside she was safe, protected by the building, her securitrons, and Alerio.

He wondered if he would be waylaid himself by Lanius as he approached the building. Probably; but that was ok. A showdown between them had been a long time coming. 

Who would win? Lanius had never been known to lose a fight. Vulpes had, but not since he was a teenager. He had learned a lot since then. Lanius had significant advantages of reach and weight, but Vulpes had speed, balance and creativity. They both had prodigious fighting skills, fought dirty, and thirsted for each other’s blood. Lanius’ reach was a problem. If he got a good grip on Vulpes the fight could be over. Plus, he was rested whereas Vulpes had just run a marathon. Either way, Vulpes thought grimly, it would be the best fight New Vegas had ever seen. They should sell tickets. Ha.


	60. Chapter 60

In the Lucky 38 Presidential suite, Veronica’s prediction of imminent shit/fan interaction was right on the money.

About one and a half seconds later, Vienna’s right fist snapped back over her shoulder into Lanius’ nose, pulping it. He roared with pain and his eyes automatically filled, blurring his vision. She expected him to throw her off or at least loosen his grip but his arms clenched her chest more tightly than ever. He was tucking his head down behind her neck but was too tall to be fully protected. She threw two fast punches with her left fist, hitting his temple. His arms crushed her chest so hard she could not take more than the shallowest breath. She pulled her feet up under her and launched herself backwards, trying to headbutt him at the same time as force him onto his back. It worked and he crashed backwards then fell sideways off the bed, still holding her in a vicegrip against his chest.

Unable to breathe, Vienna repeatedly smashed her head back against his, not caring how much it hurt. The cost would be a lot higher if she lost this fight. He could not move his head of out the way without exposing his neck. If she landed a blow directly on his adam’s apple she might get lucky and damage his throat enough to choke him. They both knew it, and Lanius didn’t risk it. He took the blows and fought hard to control her, catching her legs with his and using his superior weight and strength to manoeuvre her onto her front. Face down on the floor, she could now partially breathe but could not get enough traction to force him off her back. He sat heavily on her rump and held her head down. He was breathing hard through his mouth, but it sounded more from anger than strain.

He forced her right arm up behind her back and grabbed a handful of her hair. “I warned you,” he snarled. He pulled her head up and slammed it back down onto the floor, then twice more, fast, hard enough to make her vision swim. Jerking her head up a fourth time he hooked his arm around her neck in a tight headlock. He dragged her to her feet and threw her back onto the bed. That was an underestimation of her tenacity, and she immediately rolled over the top of Veronica and off the other side of the bed, into a crouch. No easy weapon in reach. He came at her and she threw a glass at him while she thought what to do.  
“Yes Man get a securitron up here!” she yelled. She decided to try for the door and sprang up at a run.  
“Sure thing boss!”  
She knew she had to win; if she failed, the consequences would be catastrophic. She moved at lightning speed and made it to the door. As she wrenched it open Lanius dove onto her in a flying tackle, their combined weight slamming it shut again and smashing her to the ground, trying to twist away from him but unable to shake his grasp from her waist.

Lanius got her in a choking headlock again and pulled her backwards to the desk, where he picked up the ripper with his free hand. She hoped he would threaten her with it but he was too smart for that. He knew the only bargaining chip he had was Veronica, and he dragged Vienna over to the bed with him and aimed the buzzing ripper at Veronica’s throat.  
“Call off your machine, now,” he growled. Veronica shook her head, her eyes pleading, _Don’t_. Vienna hesitated. Lanius pushed the ripper in a few millimetres, and its teeth tore a rough gash. Fine droplets of blood speckled Veronica’s neck and chest.  
“NOW!” he bellowed.   
“Yes Man cancel my last order,” Vienna choked out.  
“Okeydokey!”

Two minutes later he had her back on the bed, bound securely. He stood beside her, staring down and breathing raggedly. He had an impact cut on his forehead which was bleeding into his left eye, and his nose had streamed blood over his mouth and chin, giving him the look of a rabid bear. His eyes burned with undisguised fury. He picked up Vienna’s discarded t-shirt from the floor and wiped the blood from his face and neck, then walked over to the desk and took the flick-knife from his boot.

“I warned you,” he said again, this time in a deceptively calm voice. He snapped it open and moved towards Veronica.  
Vienna went cold. “Don’t do it, please, I beg you, do it to me, I was the one who disobeyed,” she pleaded. “Please, Lord Caesar, show her mercy, I will take my own punishment, I will do anything, I’m begging you please, _please_.”  
Lanius glanced at her as though he were mildly interested in her frantic entreaties, but he didn’t stop what he was doing. Sitting next to Veronica, he gripped her face firmly with one hand, aimed the point of the knife at the pupil of her right eye, and slowly pushed it two inches in. Through her gag, Veronica screamed, a nightmarish howl that rang in Vienna’s ears over and over.

Withdrawing the blade, he casually cleaned it on Vienna’s bloodied t-shirt, and held the shirt to the wound. Veronica’s remaining eye blinked furiously and streamed with tears. She was shaking and her face was chalk white.

He looked at Vienna. “Didn’t you believe me? Or did you really have the hubris to imagine you could best me?”  
Vienna couldn’t speak. All her efforts to keep the situation calm had been wasted, for a momentary loss of temper. She had let him taunt her into giving her true feelings away, exactly the trap she had been cautioning herself all morning not to fall into. Now, she had cost her friend an eye.  
“Vero,” she whispered hopelessly. _Are you alright?_ didn’t really cover it. “I’m so sorry.”

Lanius used the knife to prise open Veronica’s mouth. He rattled the blade against her teeth, as a reminder of what he had said he would destroy next.  
“Something you need to learn about me, Vienna, is that I always do what I say I will. Forget that at your peril. So. Are you going to be good now?” he asked. He was still looking at Veronica, but his words were directed to Vienna.  
“Yes, lord Caesar,” Vienna whispered. Her boldness had deserted her.  
“Do you doubt my word?”  
“No, my lord.” Vienna’s voice was so small now as to be almost inaudible. She felt such biting shame and visceral horror at what she had caused that a strange buzzing filled her head, and she could not process her thoughts properly.  
Lanuis leaned close and spoke equally quietly. “I will not warn you again.”  
Vienna nodded. The lump in her throat was too big to be able to speak at all now.

He tore up the t-shirt and made a makeshift bandage for Veronica’s destroyed eye. “So, the discussion of Vulpes’ fate upsets you,” he said as he worked. “You do still care for him.”  
Vienna tried to swallow the lump, and took a deep breath. She coughed and swallowed again. “No, but he’s been loyal to me, superficially at least, so I feel I owe him a decent death.”  
“Why bother lying, it is blindingly obvious you still care a great deal for him. Heh.” He guffawed at his own macabre joke.  
“I do not.”  
“Then why the extreme reaction when I said I would string him up?”  
Vienna hesitated for a beat too long. “I don’t like to think of anyone being tortured that way.”  
Lanius gazed at her, his eyes amused. “You are still under his spell.”  
“I am not,” Vienna said stubbornly. “Since you told me what he truly is, I no longer have any feelings for him.” She sounded completely unconvincing and she knew it.  
Lanius looked very amused now. He shrugged. “Very well,” he said. “If you wish to lie about that, it suits my ends just as ably.”

He put a gag back on her, not using her hair this time, for which she was grateful, instead using the remaining part of the torn up t-shirt. She tasted his blood on it. He tested it to make sure it was tight enough that she could not give any more orders to Yes Man, and when he was satisfied, got up and walked out of the room, leaving the door open. From the bathroom, the sound of running water drifted in.

Vienna was glad for the gag. She didn’t know what to say to Veronica, and as far as speaking to Lanius went, her composure was so badly shaken that she could not have convincingly claimed that the sky was blue. It was safest not to say anything for a while.

From outside the room she heard Lanius speaking to Mortimer, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. They were in the kitchen, getting something to eat. He didn’t come back for a long while, maybe an hour. Next to her, Veronica was in acute pain, clenching her fists and making an intermittent droning sound behind her gag.

When the Legate eventually returned, his face and hands were clean. His nose was out of shape and a bit swollen but not too badly, he must have had ice on it in the kitchen. He sat next to Vienna and removed her gag. They gazed steadily at each other. He no longer looked angry; his expression was more pensive. 

“You have broken my nose,” he said. Vienna said nothing, and he went on, “You were lying all along, pretending to want me.”  
“Sorry to disappoint you,” replied Vienna.  
He stroked a thumb along her brow, down her cheekbone and across her lips. “Disappoint me?” he mused. “No, far from it, Vienna. It is quite the opposite. You continue to delight me.”  
The thumb slipped between her lips and she bit it, but didn’t dare to bite hard.   
“Your defiance excites me. I am certain, now, that you are the woman for me.”  
“You like a woman who punches you in the face?”  
Lanius paused, then snorted. “Should I prefer a woman who folds easily? Who bows to untested threats from strangers?” He grinned. “Women sometimes try to fight me, in a feeble way, but no woman has ever hit me hard enough to break something. I am impressed, Vienna. That deserves respect. I know you have been sacrificing yourself to protect your friend. That demands respect, too.”  
“Yeah, I’ve done a bang-up job of protecting her,” Vienna muttered.  
“You have. Do not think you have failed her. Her injury was destined to happen from the start; you had to find out if I carry out my threats. Now you know I do.”  
He withdrew his wetted thumb and put it to her nipple, gently swirling around and teasing it, squeezing the sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger and watching with satisfaction as it rose and hardened in response.  
“If you had not tested me, you would not be worthy of me. She would then lose all value as a pawn, and she would die. So be proud, you have protected her very well.”  
He put his mouth to her nipple and licked. Vienna sighed softly, and he nibbled, then sucked lustily.  
“That said, I like you so much better when you are nice to me,” he murmured.

Vienna let him take his pleasure for a short while. Then she said, “My lord Caesar?”  
“Mm?”  
“My friend is in excruciating pain. I would like to give her some pain control medication, please.”  
“Why should I care about that?”  
“It’s distracting me. I cannot pay you my full attention.”  
Lanius gazed at her with a calculating look in his eye.   
“Mm. Very well. But I will administer it.”  
“Thank you.” She tried to smile nicely.  
“After you make me come.”  
Vienna’s smile fell away. “You never come.”  
“I will, if you try harder to please me.”  
Vienna took a deep breath. “Lord Caesar, if we are to be married we must learn to trust each other. If you allow her to have the medication now, you will earn my gratitude, and I will prove my goodwill to you afterwards.” She softened her voice. “I think you will like the way I can show my appreciation.”  
She looked into Lanius’ eyes and parted her lips, provocatively licking behind her front teeth. Lanius gazed back at her, the ghost of a smile on his lips.  
“Very well.” He got up, displaying a huge hard-on, and followed Vienna’s instructions where to find the Med-X, and how to use it. He injected one vial into Veronica’s neck. Vienna saw Veronica’s hands slowly unclench. She asked him to use a second dose. He shook his head and put the medicines aside.  
“She can have a second dose after you show me this ‘appreciation’ you say I will like.”  
There was no point arguing.

Lanius started untying Vienna’s hands. “Attack me again if you wish. You know what will happen,” he remarked.  
“I have learned that lesson.” Vienna was on a strict program of appeasement now.

He untied her feet and pushed her legs apart, then lay full length on top of her, his face just above hers. His gaze bored into her. He seemed to be waiting for her so she reached up and kissed him, almost lovingly, taking care not to press against his busted nose. His eyes closed and he leant into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her.


	61. Chapter 61

Arriving outside the gates of New Vegas, everything looked normal to Vulpes. He stopped at the first securitron.  
“Yes Man.”  
The mean army grunt face disappeared from the securitron’s VDU and was replaced by Yes Man’s usual silly grin.  
“Why, hey there, Mr Dove!”  
“Yes Man, where’s Kate?”  
“She’s in the Presidential suite of the Lucky 38!”  
Vulpes breathed a sigh of relief. “Is there anyone strange outside the 38? A very tall man?”  
“No strangers. Miss Cassidy and Mr Tejada and Dr Ortal are outside though!”  
Vulpes thought that was odd. “Doing what?”  
“Waiting, it looks like! But a very tall man did go into the Lucky 38 last night, to visit the boss. Boy howdy, is he tall!”  
Prickles swept up Vulpes’ spine and stabbed the back of his head. He ran past the securitron and pushed opened the gates, to see Cass, Raul and Emily slouching desultorily on the front steps of the 38, as though they had been there for a while.  
They looked up as he ran to them.  
“Why are you out here?” he asked as he reached them.  
“You tell us,” replied Cass. “Vee won’t let us in.”  
“Did you get him?” asked Raul.  
“No...” said Vulpes, looking at the door. Lanius was inside, and her friends were not permitted entry. What did that mean?  
“Yes Man, when did he enter?” he called to the nearest securitron.  
“Nearly eight hours ago!” said Yes Man.  
“Who?” asked the others simultaneously.  
Vulpes ignored them and spoke again to the securitron. “Who else is inside?”  
Yes Man replied, “Miss Santangelo, Miss Weintraub, Mr Alerio, and Mr Mortimer!”  
“Mortimer from the Ultra-Luxe?” asked Cass in disbelief.  
“Yessirree!”

Vulpes stepped towards the doors and they opened for him. The others got up to follow but the securitron pulled out its minigun and waved them away.  
“Sorry, only Mr Dove allowed in, by order of the boss!”  
“What the fuck is going on?” demanded Cass. No one answered her. Vulpes walked inside the casino and disappeared into the gloom as the doors closed behind him. 

Inside, it was dead silent. Vulpes felt a queasy sense of trepidation. Only he was allowed in. It was almost certainly an ambush. He was at a significant disadvantage, being only able to enter from one point.  
He had an idea. “Yes Man, can you play me the sound of what is happening in the Presidential suite?”  
“I sure can!” A momentary crackling sound was replaced by soft white noise, overlaid by a smacking sound, and small breathy sighs. Vulpes listened intently. He soon understood that the white noise was because there was so little sound coming from the Presidential suite that Yes Man had put the volume up very high. The smacking sound was kissing. The little breaths sounded an awful lot like Kate.

Any doubt about the participants was dispelled when Lanius’ unmistakeable baritone said, in a tender way Vulpes would not have thought he was capable of, “You like it when I do this?”  
“Yes.” Kate’s voice was very quiet but her tone of overt sexual pleasure resonated through Vulpes’ nervous system, and he felt as though he’d been slapped.  
“You want me inside you again?”  
“Yes. Please.”  
A pause. “How’s that?”  
A deep sigh. “ _So good_.” A long, soft moan. More kissing sounds.  
Lanius, in a whisper. “I’m going to make you come so hard.”  
More breathy sighs. “Mmm. You already made me come twice.”

Vulpes’ blood was roaring so loudly in his ears he could hardly hear the rest. In any event he could stand to hear no more.  
He had been betrayed.  
They were both dead.

No longer caring if it was a trap, Vulpes went into the lift. He equipped That Gun in his right hand, and Chance in his left. The elevator seemed to take forever to creep up to the 22nd floor. When it finally arrived and the doors opened, he scanned for mines or any other booby traps before he stepped out. Alerio was visible, his hair matted in a pool of dark blood in front of the closed master bedroom door.

A sloshing sound came from the bathroom and Vulpes moved quickly and silently towards the sound. Someone was in the bath. He peeked around the doorway and saw Mortimer crouching in a full bath, trying to get out quietly.

Less than twelve seconds later Mortimer sank back down into the bath, a jagged cut on his temple where Vulpes had pistol-whipped him, and his throat cut from ear to ear. The bathwater swirled red over him.

Vulpes listened, heard nothing and moved back to Alerio, feeling his wrist for a pulse. He couldn’t find one, but his friend’s skin was cool, not cold, and Vulpes tried again on his neck, after a few moments picking up a very faint beat. His skull was cracked, and glued to the floor by coagulated blood. He was unconscious and had been lying there for a long while. Vulpes decided he could wait a little longer, and moved on, swiftly checking all the other rooms except the master bedroom. They were all empty except for the group bunkroom, in which the corpse of Sarah Weintraub lay naked and spread-eagled on a bed. She had a ragged hole where one of her eyes should have been. A trail of dragged blood led to her from the door of the master bedroom.

The master bedroom was completely soundproof so there was no point listening at its door. Vulpes put away Chance and equipped the .44 magnum revolver. He checked his weapons again. Fully loaded, safeties off.  
He pushed open the door.

The Legate was sitting on the bed, his back to the door, holding Vienna’s legs apart and thrusting his hips into hers. Vienna was flat on her back. Neither of them could see Vulpes’ shadowy form in the doorway, raised pistol in each hand.   
“Good afternoon,” Vulpes said quietly.

Lanius froze for a second, then put Vienna’s legs down and slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder.

Vulpes was puzzled. What kind of an ambush was this? Just like Mortimer, Lanius seemed taken by complete surprise at his appearance, and wholly unprepared. Yet they must have been expecting him, why else was he the only one allowed in?

Lanius spoke. “You are beaten, Vulpes Inculta. Your woman wants me now. Shall we go outside and settle the matter like men?”  
“Hm.” Vulpes pretended to consider it, while he took in the scene. Vienna’s hair, still in a braid, was hacked off and lying on the floor. Veronica Santangelo was bound naked to the bed next to them, with a bloodied bandage over her eye, the same eye Sarah had been stabbed through. Lanius’ face showed fresh cuts and bruises. His nose looked broken.  
Things were not as they had seemed.

Lanius had subtly pressed his hand down hard over Vienna’s mouth as he spoke, but Vulpes had caught it. The Legate was trying to prevent her speaking, but that very fact spoke for itself. Inadvertently, by that small, surreptitious movement, Lanius confirmed what Vulpes now suspected; Lanius was lying about Kate wanting him. But the Legate was right about one thing. Vulpes had been beaten.

With no warning the two guns exploded into life, blasting through Lanius’ brain and heart, spraying blood and gore over Vienna. The huge man’s punctured, twitching body lurched forward and collapsed heavily onto her.

While Vienna struggled to wriggle out from underneath the giant, Vulpes used Chance to cut off Veronica’s gag and sever her bindings. Then he walked out and used the blade to cut the carpet Alerio was glued to. He cut a large square shape, enough to make a roll that he could transport Alerio in without unsticking his broken skull, and when it was done, he picked up the roll with unconscious Alerio in it, taking as much care as he could not to move his head, and carried him into the lift.

Behind him, Vienna was attending to Veronica, talking to her softly as she injected something in her.

Vulpes carried Alerio out of the casino, pausing outside the front doors to ask Dr Ortal if the Followers could mend a fractured skull.  
“Not really, that’s beyond our facilities. A severe trauma like that you need Dr Usanagi’s clinic, east of the city... you could borrow a stretcher from us though. Fox, what’s going on up there? Are they ok?”  
Vulpes walked away. They followed him, asking questions, but he didn’t answer. Raul offered to help carry Alerio but Vulpes shook his head. They gave up and drifted back to the steps of the Lucky 38.

Vulpes carried Alerio to the Followers’ compound, asked inside if they had a stretcher, and got one, along with someone to help carry the other end. It was a longish walk to Dr Usanagi’s clinic, and the carpet was heavy, but they didn’t dare try to unstick Alerio’s cracked skull from it, so instead just cut around that bit and discarded the rest before they transported him.

At the clinic, Dr Usanagi took Alerio into a surgery room, inspected his injury and then came out to tell Vulpes that she could weld the plates of his skull back together, but it would take days, cost 5000 caps, and he may already have brain damage. Vulpes nodded and wordlessly handed over the scoped .44 magnum. Usanagi called over one of her heavily armed guards to take a look at it.  
“That’s worth around 4600 with its modifications,” reckoned the guard.  
Vulpes hesitated. He was reluctant to part with his other weapons as he might need them. He saw the wedding ring on his finger, and slipped it off, placing it on the desk next to the magnum.  
“Is that your wedding ring?” asked the doctor.  
“Mm.”  
“Ah hell. Nah, you keep that. Tell you what, if he wakes up and knows his name at the end of the treatment you can pay me then, otherwise we’ll call it even.”  
She pushed back the ring and Vulpes took it. He looked at it for a moment, then dropped it in a pocket.  
Usanagi said, “Come back in four days... and don’t get your hopes too high.”  
Vulpes thought for a moment. He said, “I may not be back, but he has money of his own. If he wakes up and knows his name, he can pay you himself.”  
On his way out, Vulpes paused by the guard nearest the door. “The Legion is coming. You better lock this place down.”

He walked a little way back towards the gates of Freeside, slowed, then stopped. His chest hurt. He could hardly breathe. He didn’t know where he was going. Taking care of Alerio had provided a temporary sense of purpose, but now even that was gone and he felt an overwhelming sense of desolation.

He had lost everything and become nothing, again. Odd, that nothingness should hurt so intensely. Nothingness should feel like nothing. 

He looked around and everything seemed to be in slow motion. He felt himself disconnect from his body, trying to get away from the pain. He floated above himself.  
His legs start to walk again. He knew where he was going, now. He had one more thing to do.


	62. Chapter 62

In the Lucky 38, Vienna had pumped Veronica as full of medicine as she dared, and put a clean bandage on her eye. The eye was ruined, she would not be able to see with it again. Veronica was in deep shock and not responding to anything.  
“Yes Man, rescind my order about who may enter. Reinstate prior permissions,” Vienna ordered.  
“Prior to when?” Yes Man asked.  
“As at 24 hours ago,” Vienna clarified.  
“You got it! By the way Miss Cassidy, Mr Tejada and Dr Ortal are outside waiting to come in! Shall I send them up?”  
“Yeah.”

When Emily Ortal got up to the suite and saw the carnage, she immediately hustled Veronica out of there, rushing her to the Followers’ compound.

Cass and Raul helped Vienna lug the three dead bodies down in the lift. Sarah’s body, they wrapped up and stored on the casino floor till they could organise a proper burial, after the battle was over. Mortimer, they carried out of the casino and dropped on the steps of the Ultra-Luxe, ignoring the horrified stares of passers-by. Lanius, they tied ropes to and hung on the front gate of the city, ready to greet the Legion troops when they arrived.

As they were hoisting the Legate’s corpse up, Boone ran up, totally out of breath and unable to talk at first, bending over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.  
When Boone recovered enough, he said, “That him?”  
“Yup,” said Vienna.  
“You ok?”  
“I am. Vero not so much.”  
“He took her eye out, she’s with Emily at the Followers’,” Cass said.  
“Oh, shit,” Boone breathed. “She gonna be ok? Everyone else ok?”  
“Yeah. Where’s Manny?” Raul said.  
“He’s coming, but so is the Legion army.”  
Vienna said. “We’ll be ready. How far off are they?”  
“Maybe one hour, two at the most.”  
Vienna nodded. “We’ll be ready,” she said again.  
Boone looked up at the body dangling from the gate. “Fuck he’s big,” he said, awed.  
“Shame he’s dead, in a way,” remarked Cass.

***

The battle, when it came, was slow but not difficult. The Legion army were not equipped to deal with securitrons and could not disable them other than by brute force. The Mark II securitrons, variously boasting missile launchers, gatling lasers, miniguns and grenade launchers, kept the Legion troops at bay while Boone and Vienna picked off their leaders, one after another, till the army was in disarray and forced to fall back. They retreated and set up a camp at the old Mole Rat Ranch northeast of the city.

Vienna followed them there, and spoke over a loudspeaker from behind a wall of securitron bodyguards. She told them that Lanius was dead, they had no leaders, the Legion didn’t exist anymore and they were no longer slaves. She promised that any who surrendered could find sanctuary and employment in the city, as free citizens. She warned them that if they chose not to take up her offer, they must leave the area by dawn or be destroyed.

Then she left, leaving them to choose their own destinies.

***

The 38ers split up for the night. Boone went to the Tops to spend the night with Carlito and Aya. Veronica was still with Emily. Cass and Raul went to celebrate the win in their room at the Tops. They invited Vienna to join them but she declined. Manny showed up, and went drinking with Cass and Raul.

Vienna went back to the Lucky 38 alone. The Presidential suite, though no longer littered with bodies, was a horrible mess. There was blood everywhere. Vienna drained and scrubbed the bath that Mortimer had been in, threw away the most stained bedding and soaked the rest, and got down on her knees to scrub the floors. The carpet Vulpes had cut up was ruined, so she threw that away too. As she scrubbed, she wondered where he was. Raul had said he’d gone to Dr Usanagi’s clinic, but he should have been back long ago. Maybe he was keeping a vigil at Alerio’s bedside. Didn’t seem like him though. Maybe he was out sabotaging the Legion army.

When everything, including herself, was as sanitary as she could get it, she took all her and Vulpes’ personal belongings up to the Penthouse suite, and went to bed up there, exhausted. She desperately wanted to see Vulpes, and decided to go look for him at the clinic first thing in the morning, if he wasn’t back by then.

During the night, Vienna dreamed that Seth came home and got into bed with her. She snuggled up to him, and slept better.

In the morning, she was still alone.


	63. Chapter 63

When she woke up, Vienna asked Yes Man for a report on what the Legion troopers seemed to be doing. He reported that about four fifths had marched away in the direction of Flagstaff just before dawn, the others had straggled into Freeside.  
“Ok... tell the stragglers via the securitrons at the gate that I have employment available for anyone who wants it. The first job is to bury the dead. Tell them to assemble at the gate at midday, and then go out together and dig a mass grave. Every single corpse from yesterday’s battle has to be buried. Once the job’s done they can come back to the gate and I’ll pay them. Can you supervise that?”  
“Sure can!”

She got dressed, equipped Lucky and the Mauser in her double hip holster, and went out to see Mick and Ralph about supplying the workers with spades, and all their other needs. They would need food, clean water, clothes... She felt tired at the thought of the administration involved, but she had to do it. No one else was going to. She gave Ralph a large supply of caps to pay the men with, and asked him to get in extra supplies of plain work clothes, since they would need to get rid of their Legion uniforms as soon as possible.

A memory came back, of sitting outside the safehouse, asking Vulpes whether she should just walk off into the sunset and be damned with it. He’d said that would be half-assed. She wished now that she’d taken that half-assed option.

Vienna walked on to Dr Usanagi’s clinic, looking for Seth.

Inside, Dr Usanagi told her that he had left shortly after dropping his friend off, and had mentioned that he might not be back. Vienna must have looked strange, because the doctor asked her if she was ok.  
“I’m fine. Do you do pregnancy tests here?” Her period was five days late now.  
“Yep, urine test for 20 caps or full blood test for 35 caps.”  
Vienna took the blood test. She sat slumped in a chair in the waiting room, looking at the ceiling. She felt listless and jaded. The guards all stared at her. Once, she would have stared back at them, but now she couldn’t be bothered.

Dr Usanagi came back four minutes later with the results printed by a computer. “Positive. Congratulations.”  
“Oh, merry hell.”  
“Not happy? I can fix that for you.”  
“Hm. Maybe. Listen, would it show up positive if I just got pregnant in the last 36 hours?”  
Dr Usanagi shook her head. “It won’t show until five days past conception, at the very least. Let’s see.” She studied the printout. “I’d say, judging by the hormone levels in your bloodstream, conception occurred between eleven and fifteen days ago.”

Vienna thought back. Fifteen days ago was the day they had stormed the Fort and killed Caesar. So she had gotten pregnant sometime in the four days after that, which meant the father was probably Vulpes... or possibly Atticus. Fuck.  
“Is there any way of testing paternity early on?” she asked.  
“Nope,” replied the doctor. “Or at least, not till well after it’s fixable.”  
“And ‘fixing it’ involves?”  
“Half an hour and 200 caps.”

Vienna left, feeling bleak. Where in all hell was Seth.

***

She stopped at the barber in Freeside on the way home and asked for whatever haircut they thought would work with what she had left. The guy on duty enthused about a haircut he had once seen on a dead Fiend, which he thought was the greatest cut he had ever seen, but since which time no remotely sober customer had ever allowed him to do.  
“I call it ‘The Unladylike’. It’s killer. You wanna try it? You’ll love it,” he said.  
“Go for it,” said Vienna. She didn’t care at all.  
One hour later she went home looking exactly like a Fiend, and scaring some of the people she passed. The care levels in her bloodstream were still stuck on zero.

She had the very unpleasant duty of going to see Sarah Weintraub’s brother Michael Angelo and explaining Sarah’s death. She really didn’t feel like doing it, but it couldn’t wait, the body had to be buried very soon.

He was not ok about it, but mercifully his girlfriend was there to take care of him. Vienna left as soon as she politely could, arranging to return the next day with the body for burial.

She went home, and told Yes Man to send the new workers to Mick and Ralph’s for payment in food, clothes and caps when their job was done. She went into the Presidential suite. It smelled of blood and disinfectant. She washed and hung out the bedding that had been soaking, took another bath, went up to the Penthouse and sat on the edge of her bed. She stared into space, and wondered why and where Seth had gone.

“Yes Man, inspect all the bodies that are being buried this afternoon and report to me if any of them are Seth,” she said, feeling slightly sick for saying it.  
“Sure thing boss!”  
She leaned forward and put her face in her hands. Her voice became muffled. “Bring the body to me if you find it. And take care with it, please.”

***

No report came.

Manny came home very hungover and went to bed in the Presidential suite. He was the only person who still slept there.

Late that afternoon, Craig Boone came to visit. They sat in the cocktail lounge across a table from each other, eking out a couple of whiskeys over a few hours. They talked a bit about Carlito.

Boone told Vienna what had happened on their sniping mission. Vienna asked if Seth had said anything during the mission that might indicate where he had gone. Boone said no.

He didn’t ask what had happened in the Presidential suite, and Vienna didn’t say. Mostly they just swirled their drinks, and gazed out of the window.

“Nice haircut,” said Boone after a long silence.  
“Thanks,” replied Vienna.  
They watched the sun setting and then Boone said he had to go. She walked him to the elevator and he gave her a long, silent hug before he got in. His fingers stroked her newly shorn head.

Vienna went back to the window and sat for a while by herself, then went to bed alone.

***

The next day dawned with Seth still missing. Vienna went out and picked some broc flowers, taking their roots and all, then got Manny to help her carry Sarah’s body to Michael Angelo’s workshop. Part of the workshop had a dirt floor, and they dug a deep hole next to a large window and buried the body right there, with the flowers planted over it. That way, Michael Angelo didn’t have to go outside to attend the funeral or visit the grave.

Back at the 38, Veronica and Emily came to visit. Veronica had an empty slit where her eyeball had been removed. She hugged Vienna tightly, and shrugged off her apologies. Nothing to forgive, you did your best, shit happens. She tried to act normal, but everything felt off. They didn’t stay long.

Vienna occupied her days with coming up with tasks for her new 150-man workforce to do. The men were rough around the edges but they were ok enough guys, and they seemed happy to be free men, paid for their services. She named them the Mojave Construction Company. Mick and Ralph got them workshirts and printed MCC on the pockets; the men then started calling themselves ‘1200 company’. Little in-joke.

1200 company rivaled the Kings in numbers, and way outstripped them in toughness, so it was necessary to keep them busy to avoid gang warfare. Luckily, rebuilding work in Freeside was going to keep them busy for a good long time. The first task was building themselves somewhere to live. They were competent men, good at taking orders, and Vienna had less trouble than she expected as their new boss. It was whispered that it was she who had killed Lanius, the Monster of the East. She didn’t bother dispelling the rumour. 

***

Boone came to visit her every afternoon, at around the same time. The third day after Vulpes had left, he brought Carlito with him.

Carlito sat on Vienna’s lap and smiled so winningly at her that Vienna smiled back, the first genuine smile to crack her face since her wedding.  
“He has such a pure heart,” she said in wonder.  
“Yeah. It’s beautiful isn’t it,” agreed Boone. He smiled too, looking happy in a way Vienna hadn’t seen in him before.

Later, walking him to the elevator, Vienna asked Boone if he thought Seth had gone forever.  
Boone said, “I don’t know, Katie. But I know he loves you. He said so, the night we were out.”  
“What did he say?”  
“He said he loved you more than anything. More than life itself.” Boone recalled the exact words, and the way Vulpes had looked when he said it. He nodded. “I’m pretty sure he meant it.”

***

Four days after Vulpes had left, Cass came by, without Raul. He was away on a trip to his old shack.

Cass found the atmosphere in the 38 dreary, and didn’t stay long. She didn’t visit again, saying Vienna should come hang out at the Tops instead.

***

Five days after Vulpes disappeared, Alerio showed up. He joined Vienna and Boone in the cocktail lounge. His gingery hair was all shaved off, and he had some long and wicked-looking freshly-stitched scars on his scalp. Vienna and Boone both admired the stitching. Dr Usanagi’s needlework was superb; she could fit five or six tiny stitches in where any other doctor Vienna knew would put one.

“Should be good, for 5000 caps,” Alerio said, submitting to their inspection.  
“Fucking hell!” Boone’s eyes widened.  
“Well, Vulpes Inculta paid most of it, I only paid the last 400.”  
“Still...”

Vienna said she needed to talk to Alerio privately, and took him around the other side of the lounge. She sat him down with a drink and told him, as gently as she could, that Sarah had died, and that they’d buried her at Michael Angelo’s three days earlier. Alerio asked how she had died, and Vienna gave an abbreviated version. Alerio nodded and didn’t say anything.

They went and joined Boone again, and the three of them sat in silence together, swirling their drinks and looking out of the window.

Boone left when the sun went down. Alerio left shortly after him.

Alerio slept in his old room at the Vault hotel, but he visited Vienna every day after that, sometimes when Boone was there, sometimes earlier or later. He didn’t say much but he seemed to like her company, and in turn she found his presence comforting; his mannerisms and expressions reminded her of Vulpes.


	64. Chapter 64

The next day, Alerio arrived after Boone had left. They sat down together with drinks, and Vienna asked again if he knew where Vulpes had gone. He said no. She asked him if he could make an educated guess.

“What was the last thing he said to you?” asked Alerio.  
Vienna thought back. “Good afternoon.”  
That drew a raised eyebrow so she elaborated, “That was the only thing he said. He came into the bedroom, saw Lanius and I together, said ‘Good afternoon’, blew Lanius away, took you and left. I didn’t see him again. According to Yes Man he never came back into the city.”  
Alerio was staring at her. He said slowly, “When you say ‘saw Lanius and you together’, you mean..?”  
“Yeah. That.”  
“He actually saw..?”  
“Yeah.”  
Alerio stared at her a little longer then looked away. He was thinking something so Vienna told him to spill it.  
He said, “Since you didn’t talk, he doesn’t know how the Legate came to be in your apartment?”  
“I guess not.”  
“Were you screaming or crying?”  
“No... look, Alerio, it went on for nearly eight hours, I was well past screaming about it. I was... I was pretending to like it.”  
“Could he have thought that you had betrayed him in favour of the Legate?”  
“I don’t think so, Veronica was tied up and tortured right next to me. It must have been obvious I was being coerced.”

Alerio said nothing and looked out of the window.  
Vienna said, “You disagree?”  
“No. I’m sure you’re right. But there are other reasons why he cannot accept it.”  
Vienna suddenly felt angry. “What do you mean? It’s not him who has to accept it, it’s me. I’m the one who lived through the goddamn ordeal, not him.”  
Alerio looked back at her mildly, seeming unaffected by her flash of anger.  
Vienna said, “So what do you mean?”  
“I don’t think you want to hear what I would say.”  
“I do. Say it.”

Alerio sipped his drink, and then studied it as though he were pondering fluid dynamics. Eventually he looked up, and said, “Vulpes Inculta is a very proud man. He is also very strict, with himself most of all.”  
Vienna waited.  
“His wife has been defiled by his worst enemy, and he failed to prevent it happening. That is something he cannot accept.”  
“But he killed him.”  
“That is immaterial. When he looks at you now, he will see Lanius’ handprints, as a reminder of his failure. He cannot forgive himself, nor expect you to forgive him.”

Handprints. Vienna looked down at herself. She felt mortified.  
She whispered, “That is an incredibly brutal thing to say.”  
Alerio said, “I apologise.”  
“No... it’s ok, I asked. Thank you for your honesty.”  
He said more gently, “It is merely my opinion. I may be wrong.”  
Vienna nodded. She put her head in her hands.

Alerio came and sat next to her.  
“I’m sorry that hurt you,” he said.  
“It’s ok.” Vienna took a deep breath and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. She spoke in a monotone. “I have been raped by three men in the last two weeks. My friends Arcade and Sarah are dead. I got Veronica half blinded. I think I’ve lost her and Cass as friends. I’m pregnant, and I don’t know who to. And now my man has left me.”  
Alerio put an awkward hand on her shoulder.  
“And I’m covered in ‘handprints’.” Her voice was bitter.  
“I’m sorry I used that word.”  
Vienna shook her head.

Alerio pulled her shoulder gently so that she looked at him.  
He said, “I didn’t mean to imply he would think less of you. You are not the one at fault. His problem is him, he made a mistake that got you hurt, it is himself that he cannot forgive, not you.”  
“What about if he knew I forgave him? Could he let it go then?”  
Alerio looked sceptical, but only said, “I don’t know.”  
“It makes no sense to hurt me more, because he feels bad that I got hurt.”  
“That is men,” Alerio said wryly.  
“And it’s crazy to just leave, without talking to me about it first.”  
“Perhaps he thought there was nothing to say. I’m only guessing, but I think he is probably very angry with himself, and expects you to be equally angry with him.”  
“So he’s slunk away in disgrace.”  
“Something like that.”  
A horrible thought struck. “Might he kill himself?”  
“I don’t think that is his style.”  
“Makes no sense,” Vienna repeated. “It wasn’t his fault.”  
“Yet it was,” said Alerio. “You have to see it from his perspective. Failure to protect you was his fault, because it was his responsibility.”

They fell silent. Alerio lifted his hand off Vienna’s shoulder and stood up. He said if she needed anything she could find him at the Vault, and left. 

Vienna went to bed but couldn’t sleep. She missed Vulpes so wretchedly that she got up and smelled his clothes to try to catch his scent. His few clothes had all been washed not long before he’d left, but there was a faint smell of him on one of his merc grunt shirts, and she slept with it, tucked against her cheek.

***

Seven days after Vulpes had left, Raul stopped by, back from his shack visit. He came up to the cocktail lounge, where Boone and Alerio were already on their second drinks.  
“Hey, Catalina,” he greeted Vienna with a warm smile.  
“Hey, gorgeous,” said Vienna. She got him a drink and they shot the breeze for a while.

She had perfected a facade of seeming to be her normal self when she was in company, as long as Vulpes wasn’t mentioned. In private, she felt increasingly far from normal.

“Where’s your man?” Raul asked after a time.  
There was a pause, then Vienna said softly, “I don’t know. He left me.”  
“Serious? Why the fuck’d he do that?”  
“I don’t know, Raul.”  
“Why the fuck would a man leave _you_?”  
“She doesn’t know, Raul,” said Boone.

Raul still looked questioningly at Vienna, who was pulling at a loose thread in her trousers.  
She glanced up then went back to the thread. “Alerio reckons it’s because he’s fucked up about what happened, and he can’t forgive himself, or something.”  
Raul said, “Ah. Ok, that makes sense.” He nodded at Alerio.  
“Does it?”  
“Sure it does. He’ll be back,” Raul said in a tone of certainty. Everyone looked at him. Raul rolled a cigarette, saying, “That Fox muchacho is just a kid. What is he, 35, 40?”  
“26,” said Alerio.  
“Well, fuck’s sake. 26? That’s just a baby! 26-year-olds don’t know anything. They got no clue how to deal with emotional shit. Nah, don’t worry chica. He’ll work it out, and when he does, he’ll be back.”  
“I’m 26,” said Boone.  
“Point proven,” said Raul, nodding gravely. Boone gave him the stink-eye.

Raul lit his cigarette, leaned back and spread his arms out on the back of the sofa, blowing a vertical cloud of smoke. “You kids have these big dramas, but you don’t know anything. I was over a hundred before I knew what was up and who was down.”  
“Maybe you’re just slow,” muttered Boone.  
“Maybe,” said Raul. He winked at Vienna. “He’ll be back, boss, bet your last cap. No sane man would run out on you, and that Fox may be a mean motherfucker but he’s not crazy. Nice haircut, by the way.”  
“Thanks.”


	65. Chapter 65

The following evening made it eight days since Vulpes had walked out. Alerio visited after Boone had left, and he and Vienna sat as usual on opposite sofas in the cocktail lounge, looking out over the darkened Mojave desert. Alerio sat straight, Vienna slumped sideways with her legs curled up.

She felt like shit. It had been another hollow, meaningless day. Each day was worse than the last; no doubt tomorrow would be indescribable. The atmosphere in the Lucky 38 felt heavy and oppressive but she couldn’t bear to go out and face the world. She was becoming a recluse.

Neither spoke for a long time.

Vienna broke the silence. “How’s your head?”  
“It’s better, thank you.”  
“Must be painful.”  
“The doctor gave me a supply of Med-X. The only real problem is trying to sleep on it.”  
“I can imagine.” Vienna looked out of the window again. She spoke without turning her head. “Lemme ask you something. Would it fuck you up, if you found out you were born of a rape and murder?”  
A long pause. “Probably.”  
“Although come to think of it, no matter whose it is, the father is still a rapist and I’m still a murderer.” Vienna’s voice was bitter.  
Alerio looked at her without saying anything.

Mr New Vegas played _Heartaches by the Number._ The upbeat tempo and happy choral voices of the song were all wrong for the lonely desperation of the lyrics.  
  
 _I've got heartaches by the number, a love that I can't win_  
 _But the day that I stop counting, that's the day my world will end_  
  
Vienna felt utterly forlorn. She looked out of the window, half-wishing that they opened so she could fall out.  
Alerio said slowly, “I think a child would be very lucky to have you as a mother.”  
“That you trying to cheer me up?”  
“Yes.”  
“Well, thank you. It’s not working, though.”

Alerio got up and came to sit next to Vienna. He waited till she looked at him, then put his arms around her, and held her tightly till she started shaking, and kept holding her till she stopped.

When she was calm again, Alerio let go of her but stayed sitting near.  
Vienna muttered, “I’m really sorry, Alerio.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I’m being such a fuck-up. Because your girlfriend died, and your head got smashed, yet you’re the one doing all the comforting.”  
Alerio shrugged. “I am still in Vulpes’ employment. His last order to me was to take care of you.”  
“Oh, so this is just a job,” Vienna managed a laugh. “Nice. He’s paying you to visit me and give me hugs on his behalf.” She laughed more.  
“It’s not like that. I like you, Kate,” said Alerio.  
Vienna laughed harder. “Ha! Lanius said the same thing! So did Caesar when I was working for him. Funny, Legion guys always go for me. Prob’ly ‘cos I’m such a sucker for punishment! Ha ha!” She started to feel slightly hysterical. She hadn’t eaten all day.

“Stop that.” Alerio wasn’t smiling.  
Vienna stood up, vaulted the back of the sofa and stalked over to the bar. She grabbed the whiskey bottle, but Alerio was there in the blink of an eye, holding her wrist and taking the bottle off her.  
“No more of that,” he said, putting it back on the shelf. She made a grab for it. He grabbed her other wrist and held them both.  
“Kate, stop. That won’t help. Listen to me. I want to say something to you.”

She stared aggressively at him, embarrassed but unable to gracefully exit the corner she’d backed herself into.

Alerio held her gaze. He said, “Vulpes asked me to take care of you, yes; that means trying to protect you from danger, which I failed at, and I’m sorry for that. It doesn’t mean extending my friendship; I do that because I enjoy your company... usually.”  
He let her wrists go, and seemed about to say something else, but didn’t.

Vienna slumped on a barstool, and leaned on the bar with her face in one hand, in the time-honoured manner of depressed drunks throughout history.

Alerio sat on the stool next to her, watching her face.  
Vienna said, “I feel like I’m losing my mind.” She stared into space. “Every morning when I wake up and he’s not there, I feel a bit less sane. I don’t know how to deal with it. I only get out of bed at all when you and Craig come over. Sometimes I think about going and getting into Mr House’s pod.”  
“Time heals all wounds.”  
“Pff. That’s such a cliché.”  
“Still true.”  
“Yeah well it’s taking too long.”  
“Perhaps your friend Raul is as wise as he is old, and Vulpes is coming back, like he says. You can wait that long, can’t you?”  
She looked at him sideways. “I see what you’re doing.”  
“Do you want me to move in here for a while?”  
“Nah, it’s ok.”  
“I could ask your friend Craig if he could bring Carlito and stay with you for a while.”  
“Nah, the poor sap’s only just got happy, I don’t wanna bring him down again.”  
“Do you want to come and stay at the Vault with me? You might feel better away from here.”  
“Quit it. I’m ok, Alerio, sorry if I said something to make you panic. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m gonna go to bed. See you tomorrow, ok?” She slid off her barstool and walked Alerio to the lift, giving a small nod in goodbye as the doors closed.

Vienna drank another capful of whiskey, but it just brought her lower. She needed to feel relief, and thinking of Craig getting happy reminded her of how that had started. He’d taken Jet, at the safehouse.

She went down to the Presidential suite, and dug around amongst the myriad of chems in her desk drawer till she found some canisters of Jet.

Back in the Penthouse suite, she brushed her teeth, undressed and lay down on her bed, as though to go to sleep. She sucked in a full canister, and started on another, but inhaled less than half before it fell out of her hand, forgotten.

***

Twenty-three minutes later Craig Boone came into the suite and found her in a catatonic state, the two used Jet canisters lying next to her. She was uncovered and her skin was very cool to the touch. He checked her pulse. It was slow but regular. He stripped to his shorts and got into bed next to her, pulling the covers up and putting his arms around her. He lay awake, listening to her breathe.

When the Jet wore off, Vienna transitioned into sleep without surfacing. She slept deeply for the first time since Vulpes had left, perhaps more because there was a warm body next to her than because of the Jet.

She awoke the next morning, feeling a bit blurry but slightly better, surprised to find Boone there.

He was asleep, exhausted because he’d made himself wake up every 20 minutes all night to check on her.

She didn’t know why he was there, and as she lay there looking at him, wondering, he opened one sleepy eye and looked back at her. Seeing her awake, he sat up.

“Could have sworn I went to bed alone,” Vienna said.  
“Don’t do that ever again,” said Boone gruffly. “You scared the shit outta me.”  
“Sorry. I’ve just been feeling a bit low. Needed to get away from my head for a while.”  
“Why’d you let me go home last night if things were this bad?”  
“I don’t wanna burden you with my problems. I’m fine, Craig. It’s alright, really.”  
“No it’s not alright. You tried to o.d. for crissakes. On Jet, which is stupid, ‘cos you get too high too fast on that to be able to take enough to o.d.”  
“I know that, Craig. I wasn’t trying to o.d. Just taking a lil’ mental vacation.”  
Boone frowned. “It’s no good. You tell me next time you feel like taking some ‘vacation’.”  
“Sorry.” Vienna tried to look contrite.  
The frown deepened. He said quietly, “I’m serious, Kate.”  
“I’m alright, aren’t I? Was it Alerio who told you to come over, by the way?”  
“Yeah.”  
“That rat.”  
“Unlike you, he actually cares if you live or die. I don’t call that ratting.” Boone stared at her for a moment, then his expression lost its anger, and only worry remained. “How about you come spend the day with me and Carlito at the Tops?”  
“Nah, I’m good.”  
Boone’s jaw jutted again. “I’m staying here then. You’re not responsible to look after yourself right now.”  
“Jeez Craig, I’m not a kid. You can go. I’ll be fine.”

He wouldn’t go. Alerio turned up later that day, and from then on they took it in turns to stay with her, despite her protestations that she was perfectly fine and didn’t need to be babysat.


	66. Chapter 66

Vulpes walked northeast, following the old Interstate 15 highway. It was barren and dry and he got very dehydrated. He stayed alive by killing the few raiders he encountered and taking their water. He hardly bothered eating. The emptiness had gone and now his head was full of a swirling dark cloud of grief and anger, lightning bolts of shame.

Every time the shame hit him he flinched and looked away, giving him the aspect of a madman. 

He walked for eight days and nights before he found it. A sad little dead settlement, near a long-abandoned mine. The shacks were rough and pathetic. He located the shack he was interested in. There were human bones just outside the front door of it, and someone had propped a skull upright on the windowledge. Inside it was much smaller than he remembered. Scavengers had pilfered what few adornments it had ever had, and now it was just an empty, ramshackle wooden structure with a dirt floor and a hole in the roof.

Walking back out, he went into the centre of the settlement and saw a lot more bones scattered around, a few still covered by tattered cloth that had long since lost any colour. They were still vaguely in a line. Someone had gone through and placed all the skulls upright. He went to the well, and looked down. Dry now, with debris and more skulls and bones at the bottom. He looked closely at the skeletal remains nearest the well, and identified a few that had belonged to children. That would have to do.

He spent the rest of the afternoon digging a hole, in the softest area of dirt he could find, since he didn’t have any proper digging implement. It took a long time, but eventually he made a grave for the remains that lay near the well, and the skull and bones he had found at the shack. He covered it over and fashioned the letters _D O V E_ in stones pushed into the soil on top of it.

By the time he was finished it was nightfall. He went into the shack again and lay down in the place that had once been his bed. Stars shone brightly through the hole in the roof. It felt peaceful.

That night, he dreamt of long-forgotten memories. He was ceremonially giving one small, brightly coloured boiled sweet each to his sister and brother. It was a rare luxury and they were excited.

As dawn broke Vulpes sat up suddenly, wide awake. Those sweets... he had won a bag of 15 of them at the rodeo, using a toy gun in a sharpshooting booth. He had eaten one, and given one each to his siblings. There had been 12 left, and he had decided that that signified that he should allow himself one per month till the rodeo came again the following year. They had seemed very precious to him, and he had buried them like treasure.

It was still dark in the shack but he scrabbled in the dirt floor, using a broken piece of wood to claw up the hard-packed soil. Five inches down, paydirt. A small tin box.

The outside of the box was all corroded, and it wouldn’t open. He used a sharp stone to scratch the rust from around the edge of the lid, trying not to damage the box itself too much, working methodically but fast. He couldn’t remember what was inside this box besides the sweets, but it made interesting sounds when he shook it, and the anticipation was terrible. Don’t get excited, he told himself, there is probably nothing special in it. But he couldn’t help feeling thrilled, because this was his storage box of childhood treasures.

Finally it grudgingly opened. What Vulpes found inside it took his breath away.

It contained, in order of increasing wondrousness:  
1\. Various animal teeth;  
2\. Ten boiled sweets, still in their individual wrappers and looking remarkably untouched by time;  
3\. An advertising flyer for _Bill Quantrill’s Traveling Rodeo Show_ , in slightly faded colour, with photographs showing members of the rodeo doing their thing. There was a head and shoulders shot of Kate herself, aiming a gun, and in the middle was her father, grinning and tipping a cowboy hat. The flyer was signed in dark blue ink. _Here’s looking at you, kid. Kate Q._  
4\. A small, black and white portrait of the Dove family, taken at a photographic booth at the rodeo. At the back, his father and Seth stood. His father’s hand was on Seth’s shoulder. In front of them his mother sat on a stool, his older sister sat on the floor next to her and his little brother sat on the floor at his mother’s feet. No one except Eben was smiling, but somehow they all looked happy.

Vulpes couldn’t stop staring at the photograph. He sat there for a long time, as the sun rose above the horizon. Then he put everything back in the box, pocketed it, got to his feet and went out into the sunshine. He visited the grave once more, then walked away.

A few minutes later he started to run.


	67. Chapter 67

By the time Vulpes reappeared in New Vegas it was thirteen and a half days after he had vanished. At nearly 2am he arrived outside the Lucky 38 and stopped, suddenly hesitant. He had thought obsessively, all the way back from Utah, about what he would say to her, and what he would do if she wouldn’t take him back. No answer had come to him. Now he was here, and he was almost afraid to take the final step.

Vulpes had two weeks’ dirt on him. He decided to wash before he went in, and moved off towards the Vault hotel to see how Alerio was doing and hopefully borrow his shower.

There was no answer at Alerio’s door. Back in the foyer he enquired of the new woman working there if Alerio still held the room. She said yes, and that she didn’t know where he was, but he was known to visit the Lucky 38, and lately was often gone all night.

Vulpes’ face lost all expression. Alerio, spending nights with Kate? That better not be what it sounded like. He thought about bursting in there and catching them _in flagrante delicto_.

Then he thought better of it. She didn’t owe him anything, and he had to keep some kind of dignity, not run in there filthy and wild-haired like a madman. No, he would go in clean and calm, and if she turned him away, he would leave town, forever.

Craig Boone was a family man now. He would be home. Probably not too pleased to receive a visitor at two in the morning, but never mind.

Boone was indeed home. Vulpes heard a crying baby and adult voices inside their suite, and Boone answered the door looking tired. He stared at Vulpes in surprise for a moment, then swung the door open and stood back to let him in.

Aya saw Vulpes and shrank away from him.  
“It’s ok, Aya,” Boone said.  
Holding the crying baby, who was one of her other charges, a tiny girl, Aya backed carefully into the bedroom, not taking her eyes off Vulpes, and closed the door. They heard it lock.

“How’s Carlito?” asked Vulpes.  
“He’s good.”  
“I’m sorry to come here so late.”  
“Where you been?”  
“I had to see a man about a dog,” said Vulpes, even though there was no reason to conceal the truth. “I need to ask you something... two things.”  
“Shoot.”  
“Is Alerio sleeping with Kate?”  
Boone stared for a second then laughed. “Don’t think so. Why’d you think that?”  
“I’m told he is spending nights with her.”  
Boone stopped laughing. His voice became soft. “That’s because she’s bordering on suicidal, for which we have you to thank. She’s sinking, and your friend and me have been trying to keep her afloat.”  
“Suicidal?” Vulpes was stunned. It hadn’t occurred to him that she could have been feeling worse than him all this time. He had thought she would just be feeling angry, never sad.

Boone said, “Yeah. That can happen when people get raped and tortured, then abandoned with no word.”  
Vulpes looked at Boone, unable to speak for a moment.   
“So what’s the other thing you wanted to ask?” Boone said.  
Vulpes swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.  
Boone answered it for him. “You wanna take a shower here? You look like shit.”

In the shower, he scrubbed and scrubbed, cursing himself as he did. When he was clean, he looked at himself in the mirror, shocked by how skinny he had gotten. He trimmed his unruly beard till it was short again. Then he shaved it all off.

Boone knocked on the door. “Fox you wanna borrow some clean clothes?”  
While Vulpes was thinking about that, the door cracked and Boone tossed a shirt, trousers and socks in.

Vulpes came out, lighter by several pounds of dirt. The borrowed clothes hung loosely on him. His wedding ring was back on his hand.

Boone was sitting on an easy chair, staring at him appraisingly. He didn’t look impressed. “You told me you loved her, was that a lie?” he said quietly.  
“No.”  
Boone shook his head ruefully. “You’re a fuckin’ idiot then.”  
Vulpes didn’t try to deny it. “Thank you for the clothes,” he said, and left.

***

The Lucky 38 doors still opened for him. A good sign.

The only person in the Presidential suite was Manny, fast asleep on the pool table and snoring loudly. Vulpes went back into the lift and headed up to the Penthouse suite.

Moving silently through the darkened Penthouse suite to the bedroom side, Vulpes saw the outline of Alerio lying on a sofa, backlit by moonlight shining through the open drapes. On the other side of the bookshelves was Vienna’s bed. She was curled up in it, her hand flat on the pillow in front of her face. He moved closer. The ring he had given her glinted on her finger. Her hair was shaved into a bizarre floppy mohawk with a few other bits left growing here and there. He listened. She and Alerio both seemed to be asleep. He crept soundlessly back towards the sofa.

“Ave, Vulpes,” Alerio whispered as he drew near. Ha. Ever a good frumentarius.  
“Ave, amicus. I am glad to see you better. Come with me,” Vulpes whispered back.

They went to the opposite side of the Penthouse floor, where they could converse quietly without waking Vienna, and talked about everything that had happened in Vulpes’ absence.

Vulpes’s first question was how Lanius had gained entry to the building. His next question was what he had done once inside. Alerio explained as best he could, though he only knew it second-hand. Vulpes’s expression darkened as he listened. He felt half sorry that he had already killed Lanius. He would have liked to kill him again.

Alerio started to describe what had happened to the Legion army, and about the creation of 1200 company.

Vulpes listened, but soon interrupted to ask about Vienna’s state of mind. “I just saw Craig Boone. He intimated that she tried to commit suicide.”  
“Not exactly, but she has been in a very low mood. She does not eat unless we make her. Less than a week ago there was an incident involving too much whiskey and too much Jet. Since then, we do not leave her on her own. She pretends to be alright if there is someone with her.”  
“Why is she like that?”  
“I don’t know. She believes you are dead, or left her. She sent securitrons out to search for your body for five days running. She asked me if I would accompany her to the safehouse to look for you. I said yes, but I had the impression she didn’t intend to return, if you were not there, so I have been trying to delay her.”  
“Hmm.”  
“There is something else.” Alerio looked slightly uncomfortable. “She is one month pregnant, and unhappy about it because she cannot be certain who the father is. She says she murdered the other man, and cites that as a reason why she cannot keep this child.”  
Vulpes went very still.  
Alerio continued, “She has made a deal to give away the baby to Veronica Santangelo and Dr Ortal.”  
That stopped Vulpes in his tracks. He stared at Alerio.

After a pause, Alerio asked, “Have you come back, Vulpes?”  
“Yes.” Vulpes collected himself. He nodded. “Thank you for your work, Alerio. You have done well. I will see you tomorrow.”  
Alerio nodded a goodbye and headed for the elevator.

Vulpes waited for him to leave, then went back to where Vienna slept. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. She, too, had lost meat off her bones. Heartbreak was not good for the health. 

“My darling,” he whispered, stroking her shoulder gently. She stirred slightly. “Kate.” He picked up her hand and kissed her ring.  
“Amatus marita, remitte mihi.” He bowed his head and pressed her hand against his forehead. “Forgive me.”

Vienna sat up suddenly and looked at him with big eyes. “Are you here?” she asked, genuinely unsure. Lucid dreams of him haunted her every night.  
“Yes. Kate, I’m sorry –“  
“Shh,” she interrupted, wrapping him in a hug and burying her face in his shoulder. He stroked the back of her neck.

Vienna breathed in the scent of his skin. It was really him. Relief flooded through her and overflowed out of her eyes.

“I don’t need to know where you’ve been. You don’t have to say anything, you don’t even have to say sorry, I don’t care. Just tell me you won’t ever do that again.”  
“I am sorry, Kate darling. I love you, and I fucked up so badly. I let you get hurt and I hate myself for it. I’ve made so many mistakes. ”  
“It doesn’t matter, Seth.”  
“I let Lanius hurt you.”  
“No. Lanius doesn’t matter, he’s nothing. It never happened. Just tell me you will never again walk out on me without saying anything. Promise me.”  
“I promise.” He kissed her shorn head. “How can you forgive me.”  
“I have.” She hugged him tighter, then pulled back a little. “Seth, what happened was not your fault. The only thing you did wrong was not saying anything. You can go away if you need to, that’s ok. Just please, please, talk to me first.”  
“I’m sorry,” he said.  
“I thought you were dead.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“It’s ok. Never leave me hanging again.”  
“Ok.”

With that, she kissed him, and pulled him down into the bed with her.


	68. Chapter 68

“I have a present for you,” he said, the next morning. It was nearly midday and they were still in bed.  
Vienna stroked his hair affectionately. “Oh? Sweet of ya, but I doubt any present could make me happier right now than looking at you.”  
“Hm. Funny you should say that.”

Vulpes retrieved the little box of treasures and brought it back to bed, opening it next to her. She took the rodeo flyer from his hand and unfolded it.  
“Oh... wow...” she breathed, transfixed. “That’s my father?”  
“Yes.”  
“And young me. _Here’s looking at you, kid. Kate Q_. I wrote that... to you?”  
“Mm hm.”  
A big grin split Vienna’s face. “Guess I’ve always liked looking at you.”  
“The feeling’s mutual.” He kissed her hungrily.

***

“Can I show you something else?” he asked, a little later.  
“Of course. What is this stuff?” she asked as he reached for the box again.  
“Things from my childhood. Look.” He held up the little black and white photo.  
Vienna took the photo, careful to hold it by the edges, angled it towards the light and looked closely at it. “Woah! What a find! That’s you... standing by your dad?”  
“Yes.”  
“You were beautiful even when you were a kid. Wow, so was your mum. You look just like her. And boy, your dad is handsome as all get out.”  
Vulpes looked sideways at his wife and couldn’t help smiling with delight.  
Vienna went back to the image of her father. It rang the faintest bells, in the far back of her mind, but she couldn’t put her finger on any specific memories. She gazed thoughtfully at the Dove family picture again. “They look like nice people.”  
Vulpes said, “I think so. I don’t really remember. My father was a bit of a drinker, I remember that.”  
“Is that why you don’t drink much?”  
“Maybe.”  
“That’s your little brother.”  
“Yes. Eben.” It was the first time he had said the name aloud since the night Eben had died. Vulpes felt his burden of unexpressed grief lift, and dissipate into the air.  
“I like his cheeky expression. He looks a little bit naughty.”  
“Not that I recall. He was a good brother.”  
“What are these?” Vienna asked, looking at the assorted sweets and animal teeth in the tin box.  
Vulpes laughed a little. “Things I valued at the time.”

Vulpes explained the sweets. He didn’t remember what the animal teeth signified, probably finds or mementos from his kills. One was a nightstalker tooth, which seemed more likely to have been a find.

On Vienna’s suggestion, they unwrapped two sweets and tasted them, both pulling faces after a couple of seconds.  
“Wee bit chemically,” she said.  
“Horrible,” said Vulpes. “Odd. I remember these as delicious.”  
“To a kid they probably are. Hey, I have something for you too, by the way.”  
“What?”  
Vienna gave a crooked smile. “Some news. Urgh. I’m not sure it’s good.”

Vulpes waited, though he guessed why Vienna had suddenly gone all shy and evasive looking.  
“What?” he repeated, when she wasn’t forthcoming.  
Vienna studied the nightstalker tooth. “I took a pregnancy test at Usanagi’s clinic. I’m pregnant.”  
Vulpes said softly, “That is wonderful news.”  
“Not really. Usanagi dates it to about when Atticus was on the scene.” Vienna winced as the memory of killing Atticus flashed into her mind, as it had so many times since she’d gotten the news. “I offered to it to Vero and Emily to raise as theirs, and they accepted,” she said sadly.

Vulpes was glad Alerio had warned him of these facts in advance. He said calmly, “But it may be ours. It probably is. Wouldn’t you want to raise it then?”  
“Yes, now that you’re here. But I didn’t think you were coming back, and I didn’t think I could manage it on my own.”  
“I’m back for good, Kate, I promised that and I swear to it. If the child is mine we cannot give it away.”  
Vienna whispered, “What if it isn’t?”

Vulpes thought carefully before he answered. “Then the decision is up to you. I can take responsibility for the child, if you wish. The child itself is blameless, after all. And you didn’t see a good side of him, but Atticus was a good man. Mostly.”  
“A good man, or a good Legionary?”  
“On reflection, perhaps neither,” Vulpes conceded. “But either way, Kate, the child is you.” He looked at her belly and smiled. “I’m happy,” he said truthfully. Somehow, he felt sure that the child was his. He just knew it.

Vienna hugged him tightly. “Seth, thank you for the present. It’s the best thing anyone could have given me.”  
Vulpes smiled over her shoulder. “Your news is the best thing anyone could have given me.”  
“Yeah, if it turns out... the way we want it to.”  
“It will.”  
Vienna bit her lip, then changed the subject. “I can’t believe you went to Utah without me!” Mock-outraged.  
“I am sorry for that; but we can still go, together.”

Vienna thought about that. She looked again at the autographed rodeo flyer with the picture of her father in the centre. He looked like a tough old scrote. “Nah, it’s ok,” she decided. “This proves it. Besides, they’re dead now, so this picture is probably about as close as I’ll get.”  
“Didn’t you believe me, before?”  
Vienna shrugged. “I guess I thought you might have been mistaken. It was a long time ago.”  
“I have a good memory.”  
Vienna opened her mouth as if she were going to say something, but just said, “Hm.”  
“Hm?”  
“Nothing. I was going to say I envy you that, but I’m not sure I do. Some things are best forgotten.”

***

They got up and went to look for something to eat, both feeling ravenous.

The kitchen, usually bare, contained actual food, part of Boone’s recent campaign to try to get her to eat. He had put a glass bottle of Brahmin milk in the fridge, along with some inch-thick Bighorner steaks. The cupboard held maize, powdered deathclaw egg, salt and sugar. A small bowl of purple mutfruit was on the bench.

Vulpes decided to make pancakes.

“Hurry up,” said Vienna, hovering at his shoulder while he cooked. He bumped her out of the way and transferred the pancakes to plates, adding slices of the mutfruit.

Neither spoke as they scarfed down the first delicious mouthfuls.

Vienna virtually inhaled the first half of her meal, and then slowed to a more sensible pace.

“I quite liked your beard,” she said.  
“I’ll grow it back this week,” he replied, adding, “I quite liked your hair.”  
“That would take a long time to grow back to what it was. Like, years and years.”  
“I’ll wait.”  
Vienna smiled down at her pancakes.

***

Their stomachs had shrunk and they couldn’t finish the breakfast. Vienna took their plates and washed them.  
Scrubbing the frying pan, she said lightly, “You know, there was one person who believed all along that you were coming home. I bet you can’t guess who.”  
“Raul?”  
She looked at him over her shoulder. “How on earth did you know that?”  
He shrugged nonchalantly.  
“No, really, how?”  
He came up behind her and kissed the back of her ear. “I know all,” he whispered, hiding the smile from his voice. It had just been a lucky guess. Raul and Manny seemed the least likely people. A 50:50 shot.

Vulpes’ hands snaked around her waist and under her shirt. Warm kisses alighted on her neck and shoulder.  
“Put that down,” he murmured.  
She dropped the pan back into the sink, rinsed her hands and turned to face him, immediately getting covered in hot kisses. He was impossible to resist and she didn’t want to.

“I missed you so much,” she breathed, closing her eyes as his kisses tickled her eyelashes and moved downwards. He didn’t reply. His tongue teased her mouth open.

His cock was hard against her pelvic bone and he slipped one hand down between their bodies to unbutton his trousers and pull it free, ardently kissing her mouth as he did. With urgent movements he hoisted her up a short way so she sat on the edge of the bench, pulled her legs up around his hips and entered her. His eyes closed and he frowned and gave an involuntary gasp as he pushed deeply in. He opened his eyes and looked into hers, holding her gaze as he thrust inside her.

They had been two long, lonely weeks apart. Since he’d gotten home he had made love to her obsessively, each successive time as fiery and impassioned as the first.

She clung to him as he carried her up the staircase and to the bedroom area, still inside her.

On the bed he laid her down on her back and climbed on top of her, looking into her eyes. He started to fuck her again, making his rhythm strong and even. She drew her fingernails slowly down his back just the way he liked, and he shuddered, working hard to hold back from coming in her. He pulled out and rubbed her clit with his cock till he saw her gaze become unfocused, then entered her again, resuming attention to her clit with his thumb.

Vienna felt a beautiful sensation deep in her body, something unswirling and spreading outwards, electrifying every cell it touched. She began to moan uncontrollably as it engulfed her. Her vision went starry for a moment, then returned to normal. Her hearing stayed strange a few moments longer. She saw his lips move but couldn’t hear what he said.

“I missed you too,” Vulpes whispered. Still erect, he lay down on his back beside her. He hadn’t come and was still hard as cast iron, pointing to the ceiling. Vienna took a few deep breaths, and moved to kneel over him, sinking onto his cock slowly, feeling it go deep. Exactly the right amount of deep; no pain, all pleasure. She closed her eyes and swayed back and forth, loving the familiar feel of him. She rode him till she heard him say, “Come here.” He wanted to kiss her breasts. She leaned forward, still sliding him in and out, and he leaned forward and caught her breast in his mouth. He gripped her ass with his hands and held her firmly, fucking her from underneath as he fervently sucked first one rosy nipple then the other.

Vulpes was approaching ecstasy. He wanted to come in her mouth. He put her on her back and moved up so he knelt on either side of her head, angling his erection into her open, wanton lips. She sucked hungrily, and he pushed deeper, partially withdrew to allow her to breathe, and slid smoothly back in. She had one hand stroking his balls, her other was between her legs, rubbing her swollen clit some more. Her mouth was blissfully hot and he fucked her till he couldn’t contain himself, watching his seed fill her mouth and spill over her cheeks.

He watched her swallowing, then moved back down the bed, snuggled in between her thighs, and applied his tongue to her clit.


	69. Chapter 69

That afternoon, Vulpes went to see Alerio, and Vienna went to see Boone, to apologise for taking up so much of their time lately, and to thank them for their friendship.

After hugging Boone goodbye and kissing the soft hair on the top of Carlito’s head, Vienna went to the Tops and visited Cass and Raul, had a drink with them, then headed to the Followers’ compound to see Veronica and Emily.

Veronica had a glass eye in now, that was dark brown where her other eye was hazel, giving her a very mysterious look. She joked that she was thinking of setting up as a fortune teller.

Vienna apologised to them and said that she had decided not to give away her baby when it was born. They looked disappointed, but said it was ok and that they understood why she had changed her mind.

“If you change it back again later, the offer stands,” vouched Emily.  
“Yeah, well thanks, you never know, we’ll see how it pans out,” said Vienna. “Aren’t you guys flooded with orphans here?”  
“No, hardly at all. Infertility and infant mortality are both so high that even if a child is orphaned, there are almost always relatives or neighbours very happy to take them in,” Emily answered.

On the spur of the moment Vienna offered Emily and Veronica full access to Yes Man’s mainframe. Emily was surprised but very excited, and accepted the offer, saying she would come up the next day to poke around in it.

Vienna went home and found Vulpes curled up on a sofa reading. He got up when she arrived, and started cooking some Bighorner steaks for dinner.

After the excellent meal, they went to bed, happy and in love.

***

In the middle of the night, Vienna woke to find herself alone. The bed was cold, and empty except for Vulpes’ shirt, crumpled on the pillow next to her. A feeling of utter dread enveloped her.

She climbed out of bed. The little box of treasures was absent from the nightstand. The book he had been reading was back on the bookshelf. His rucksack was gone.

She went into the kitchen. The mutfruit had reappeared in the bowl. Opening the fridge she saw the milk bottle was full again, and the steaks were there, untouched.

He had never been home. She had dreamed the whole thing.

She screamed, “NO!”, her knees folded, and she collapsed in a flood of tears.

The truth crushed her, like the weight of the sea crushes a drowned sailor, in dark, silent depths.

***

Vulpes jerked awake when she screamed. He looked at her face in the moonlight. She was asleep, apparently having a nightmare. Her hands clutched her head, and she moaned, sounding as though she were in agony.

He took her hands and said, “Kate.”  
No response. She writhed and moaned again.  
“ _Kate._ Wake up. You are dreaming. Wake up.”  
She opened her eyes and abruptly sat up. She stared at him, looking strangely petrified, and put a hand out to touch him. “Are you here?”  
“Yes. You were dreaming, Kate. Everything’s alright.” He switched on the bedside lamp.  
Vienna burst into tears. He held her tight and she sobbed against his chest till the fear passed.

When she calmed down, Vienna took a deep breath.  
“Alright now?” asked Vulpes, stroking her wet cheek.  
“Yeah. Thanks. Sorry for waking you up.”  
“You’re not usually much of a crier, so that must have been quite a dream.”  
“It was just... frighteningly real. I was in the kitchen...” she broke off, remembering it.  
“You had a nightmare about having to do the cooking?”  
“Haha.”  
“Heh.” He cuddled her again. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you cook anything.”  
“Funny.”

They lay in silence, in each other’s arms but each in their own thoughts.

Vienna said, “I want to leave here.”  
Vulpes paused. “Here: this building, or here: New Vegas?”  
“The Mojave. Arizona altogether. I want to take that half-assed option, and skedaddle. I’ve got no interest in being the boss of this place anymore.”  
Vulpes nodded slowly, understanding. “We will find trouble wherever we go,” he pointed out.  
“At least we can start new. Reinvent ourselves. Everyone around here has preconceived ideas about us. I’d like to go somewhere where we can just be ourselves.”  
“I don’t see you as a housewife.”  
“Not that. We can still chew gum, kick asses and take names, just... away from here. This place has too many ghosts for me.”  
“Mm. You have taken a lot of hits. But all of the recent ones were my fault, Kate.”  
“Not really.”  
They were, Vulpes thought. He had shot her, nearly killing her by infection, and permanently damaging her leg. She would walk with a slight limp forever because of him. He had abducted her, raped her while she was delirious, and allowed a man she’d never met before to do the same. Then, after she’d miraculously forgiven him for all of that, he’d attracted Lanius to her, and left her unguarded when the serpent struck.  
“Yes, really,” he said darkly.  
“It wasn’t your fault my father was murdered, or that Benny shot me and buried me alive and trashed my memory cells. It wasn’t your fault that Lanius came after me, or that he got in. The only thing that’s completely your fault is this.” She gestured at her belly.  
“Lanius was my fault. I shouldn’t have left your side. I should have been here, I could have protected you.”  
“I wasn’t alone, Alerio and Vero were with me. If you’d been here, you might have taken the same damage Alerio did. Or worse.”  
“I should have seen it coming.”  
“How could you have? It was my stupid fault that he got in the building. Damn Sarah. Poor woman,” she added sadly.  
“Even if he hadn’t gotten inside, he would have waited outside for you and ambushed you. Or held Cass or Carlito to ransom till you exchanged yourself for their life. He would have gotten to you, Kate, one way or another. He wasn’t a man who could be thwarted. I should have foreseen it.” Vulpes frowned.

Vienna propped herself up on one elbow. “Stop it. Your plan to intercept him was rational. I agreed with it. Craig and Manny agreed with it. No one could have guessed what would happen.”  
“I knew him. I should have guessed how he would play it. It was my mistake to underestimate his cunning, and there is no excuse for that.”  
“I’ve forgiven you, Seth. There’s no point in beating yourself over the head with it.”  
“I don’t know why you’ve forgiven me for all the ways I’ve failed you. I’ve harmed you so much.”  
Vienna’s voice grew soft. “Is that why you left?”  
“Yes.” Vulpes turned his face into the pillow.

Vienna thought about that for a while. “Why did you come back?”  
He didn’t look up. “Because I had something to give you.”  
“The rodeo picture? So... you wouldn’t have come back if you hadn’t found that?”   
Vulpes shook his head slightly. “I didn’t think you would want me back,” he whispered.  
Vienna gaped at him. “Now that is terrifying.” She stroked the back of his head. “My crazy honey,” she whispered, leaning over to kiss his ear. “I always want you. Always, whatever you’ve done, whatever happens. Always. I never want to lose you again.”  
She nuzzled his hair, smelling its familiar scent.  
“We have such a splendid history of walking away from each other. But this time, you walking away from me hurt worse than anything imaginable.”

His face was still down. Vienna pushed him over, and he looked at her. In his half-starved state his cheekbones jutted out even more prominently than usual. His antimony-coloured eyes seemed to glow more brightly. The effect of his gaze on her was as intense as it had ever been, and she felt her heart swell.  
“The two weeks we were together, I felt...” She struggled to explain it. “Really, properly alive. And the last two weeks, without you, I felt dead.”  
“So did I. It felt as though the shame was eating my soul.”  
“I don’t know why you felt ashamed, honey. You killed him. You won.”

_You are beaten, Vulpes Inculta_. Vulpes grimaced at the memory of Lanius’ final taunt.

“No I didn’t. He did what he came to do. He won.”  
“His aim was to take the city. He failed.”  
“No. That was a secondary aim. His primary aims were to take you, and to show me that he could. It makes no difference that I killed him afterwards. He had already beaten me.”

Killing Lanius in Kate’s bed had felt as redundant as pulling a gun after losing a game of euchre; an irrelevant revenge from a sore loser.

“It makes me insane to think of him with you,” Vulpes said.  
“Don’t think of it. It never happened. That’s the way I’m dealing with it,” Vienna said.  
“I can’t stand it. Knowing that he did things to you; but not knowing what he did... that’s even worse.”  
“Listen, we can talk about it, right now, once and for all. Ask me anything you want to know. But after this, I don’t ever want to speak of it again, ok?”  
“Ok.” Vulpes was silent for a moment, then he said, very quietly, “I heard you telling him he had made you come. Twice, you said. Did he?” He couldn’t look at her.  
“Only in a mechanical way.”  
Vulpes closed his eyes, and Kate said, “Imagine some woman you despised tied you up, got naked and sucked your cock for eight hours. Would you come?”  
Vulpes opened his eyes, considering it. “Yes,” he admitted.  
“There you are. It had no deeper significance, and I was thinking about you while he was doing it anyway.”  
“Hm.”  
Vulpes paused, unsure of how to politely ask what he was wondering.  
Vienna saved him the awkwardness. “If you’re wondering where else he stuck it, he did shove it down my throat a few times, more for the fun of suffocating me than for sex.”  
“Did you swallow his... fluid?” It made Vulpes cringe to ask this, but he had to know.  
“No. He never came.”  
Vulpes pricked up his ears. “Never?”  
“Nope. He said he could, but he never did. Not once in nearly eight hours. I think he was impotent, in a weird sort of way.”

Vulpes stared into space for a moment, thinking of the implications. The great and terrible Legate Lanius, Monster of the East... _impotent_. He marveled at it. “So that’s why,” he mused to himself.  
“Why what?”  
“Why he had no sons, despite Caesar telling him to make some, and despite his constant, ostentatious displays of lechery.” That line is dead forever, he thought with satisfaction. And mine is just beginning. Ha.  
His face transformed into his trademark foxy grin. Ha, ha, ha.  
Seeing it, Vienna said, “Oh you like that.”  
He said yes with a flicker of his eyebrows.  
“What else do you want to know?” she asked.  
“Nothing. That’s all I needed.”  
Somehow, the revelation of this new fact made the events no longer stab at Vulpes’ mind; and with that, he let it go. Her approach was right, he decided. It never happened.

“When do you want to leave?” he asked suddenly.  
“Soon. The sooner the better.”  
“Agreed.” He paused. “Did you have somewhere in mind?”  
“I was thinking maybe the Pacific coast.”  
“Hmm.”  
Vienna watched him think.   
When he spoke his voice was quiet and decisive. “I’m ready to go. Wherever you want. Whenever you say the word.”

He felt a lump in the bed and reached under the covers, pulling out a crumpled merc grunt shirt, with a familiar small hole in the stitching of the shoulder. “Is this mine?”  
“Yes.” Vienna looked embarrassed.  
Vulpes raised an eyebrow, looking very amused.  
Her cheeks pinked. “Alright I was sleeping with it ‘cos it smelt of you and I really missed you, sheesh,” she blurted out. Vulpes laughed. She play-punched him and he laughed harder, tickling her and pulling her close.

Tickling progressed to kissing, and thirty-seven minutes later they flopped onto their backs, panting.  
“I wish I’d had something of yours to sniff, while I was away. A pair of your underwear, maybe,” Vulpes teased.  
“Oh really? Be careful what you wish for.” She reached out of the bed and grabbed her discarded knickers, dropping them on his face. He didn’t move.   
“You think I don’t like this?” he said from underneath them, laughing again.  
“You are one kinky man, Seth Dove.”  
"You knew that when you married me, Mrs Kate Dove."  
"Touché."


	70. Chapter 70

The next day there was heavy cloud over the entire sky. The barometric pressure was dropping. It felt like a storm was coming.

At around a quarter to two in the afternoon, Veronica and Emily arrived at the Lucky 38, slightly earlier than they had been invited for. Emily was too excited about getting into Yes Man’s head to wait. As they approached the front doors, a securitron scooted out, heading up the Strip at speed. Going towards the Tops.

“Huh,” said Veronica, watching it zipping away.

In the elevator, Veronica asked Yes Man for Kate’s permission to access the Penthouse Suite.  
“No need to ask! You’re the boss, boss!” Yes Man blared.  
“Huh,” said Veronica again, more slowly.

Arriving in the Penthouse, Veronica called out a greeting. No reply, but the radio was on, maybe she didn’t hear. They walked through to the living area. The bed was made, the room clean and tidy. There was no sign of habitation other than Vienna’s dresses hanging up. Unusually neat, for her.

In the kitchen, the long dining table was laid out for guests, with seven places set. There were Fancy Lad’s Snack Cakes, Dandy Boy Apples, Spring Valley Potato Crisps, Cheezy Poofs and jugs of agave juice.

On each of the seven plates was an envelope, with a name written in an elegant copperplate script.  
 _Dr. Emily Ortal_  
 _Sgt. Craig Boone_  
 _Master Carlito Gaius Marius Boone_  
 _Sgt. Manuel Vargas_  
 _Sr. Raul Tejada_  
 _Miss Rose of Sharon Cassidy_

Carlito’s envelope was different to everyone else’s, larger and containing something more bulky.

Veronica found her own envelope and looked at it. _Scribe Veronica Santangelo_ , it read, the writing as precisely sized and placed as calligraphy. “These must be from Vulpes,” she said, feeling vaguely apprehensive.  
“They’ll be from Kate won’t they?” replied Emily, picking up hers.  
“If it was from Kate it’d just say ‘VERO’ and have a nail stuck through it,” Veronica said. She hesitated, wanting to open it but afraid of what it might contain. Emily caught her nervousness and they looked at each other uncertainly.

Manny walked in, roused by Yes Man from the Presidential Suite. He didn’t know what was going on either, but he wasn’t afraid to find out. He sat down and tore his envelope open. Veronica and Emily followed suit.

The envelopes contained letters written by Vienna. As they read them, Cass, Raul, and Boone carrying Carlito arrived from the Tops, summoned by Yes Man via securitron.

“Kate sent for us, where is she?” asked Cass. She looked at the table. “What’s this?”  
Veronica gestured at their envelopes. “Read for yourself, Cassie. And have a seat; we’ll be here for a while.”

Boone sat down heavily, holding Carlito to his broad chest, and looked at his envelope for a while before he picked it up and slowly tore it open, reluctant to read the contents even though, unlike the others, he knew what it would say.

Vienna had been to see him that morning. He’d been surprised and said he wasn’t sure, and she’d told him she would come back in an hour for his decision. When she came back, he’d turned down her offer, not willing to separate Carlito from Aya, and seeing too much risk in travelling long distance with three small babies. They’d talked a bit more, then Vulpes shook his hand, Vienna hugged him for a long time, and they walked away.

He looked at the letter.  
 _Craig, my beautiful friend,_ it read, in Vienna’s less-than-beautiful scrawl, _We’ve gone, and like I said I’m not sure that we’ll ever be back. I hope to see you again though. When we get where we’re going, I’ll write to you and let you know how to reach us._  
 _I leave you and Manny control of 1200 company, like we talked about. Up to you what you do with them, but my advice is treat them well, keep them busy and - this is important - keep a close eye on them, ok? They’re basically mercenaries, and capable of mounting a coup if left to their own devices._  
 _Thank you for everything. I love you to bits, I’m really glad you’re happy, and I wish you more happiness to come._  
 _Your friend always_  
 _Kate._  
 _PS I made a deal with Swank, your Tops suite is yours for as long as you want it._

Boone kept staring at the letter for a long time after he finished reading it.

At first, no one knew what to say. Big raindrops hit the windows hard, soon progressing to a steady downfall. No one wanted to go outside, so they shared the snacks and poured each other drinks; and after a while they began discussing the future.

Vienna’s massive arsenal of weaponry and ammunition was now Boone’s. Her many pieces of armour were available to anyone who wanted them, and her dress collection, including her sexy sleepwear and even the infamous naughty nightwear, was left to Veronica. The only items gone were a recon suit and the green dress.

The Presidential Suite of the Lucky 38 had been left to Cass, Raul and Manny. The Casino was for Cass and Raul to manage. The Penthouse floor and complete control of Yes Man were bequeathed to Veronica, Emily, and theoretically Boone if he was interested. He wasn’t.

Carlito’s envelope was unopened. Boone felt funny about opening it. It seemed to him obviously intended to wait until Carlito was old enough to read it himself.  
“It’s got something in it,” said Manny, picking it up and shaking it. It rattled and clinked intriguingly. Carlito himself got interested and reached for it.  
“Maybe it’s a toy,” suggested Raul. Everyone liked that idea, especially Carlito. Boone grudgingly opened it, and pulled out the note inside.

 _Carlito. Some things for you on your 10th birthday. From your friend, Seth Dove_ it read simply.

Boone emptied the contents of the envelope out onto the table. Around fifty collectable Sunset Sarsaparilla star bottle caps; a necklace made out of various species of animal teeth with a nightstalker canine as the centrepiece; and eight individually wrapped, brightly-coloured sweets.

The radio played _Ain’t That a Kick in the Head._

***

At that moment, outside the city, Kate, Seth and Alerio were listening to the same song on Kate’s PipBoy radio, as they hiked westwards.

Kate and Seth walked arm-in-arm, laughing and not caring at all about the rain. They sang along with the music.

_“How lucky can one guy be?_  
 _I kissed her and she kissed me,”_ sang Seth. 

_“Like the fella once said_  
 _"Ain't that a kick in the head?"_ yelled Kate.

_The room was completely black_  
 _I hugged her and she hugged back_  
 __  
 _Like the sailor said, quote_  
 _"Ain't that a hole in the boat?"_  
 __  
 _My head keeps spinnin'_  
 _I go to sleep and keep grinnin'_  
 _If this is just the beginnin'_  
 _My life is gonna be beautiful_  
 __  
 _She's telling me we'll be wed_  
 _She's picked out a king size bed_  
 _I couldn't feel any better or I'd be sick_  
 _Tell me quick, oh ain't love a kick?_  
 _Tell me quick, ain't love a kick in the head?_  



	71. Chapter 71

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~ Epilogue ~

Nearly a year after he’d hugged her goodbye, Craig Boone received a letter from Kate, dusty and torn, dated some two months earlier.

_Hey Craig!_

_We’re in San Fran! Get your ass out here! We have a real nice place, it’s humungous, used to belong to a chem king before he & his goons met with a lil accident. When we got to the coast we intended to live the quiet life but then we met people who starting asking me to help out with this and that, you know how they always seem to do. Next thing, cans of whoop-ass started getting opened all over the show. Long story short, we ended up with this sweet place, and we pretty much run this burg now._

_I’d love it if you came to visit. You can stay with us as long as you like, hell you can move in, whole family included. Seth says he can offer you a good-pay job working with him and Alerio if you want it. They have all kinds of intrigues going on. They run a lil “consultancy” business, helping people with problems that can’t be solved by the usual channels. Don’t worry, nothing too evil, more things like tracking down people, negotiating between warring factions etc. Similar sorta stuff to what you and me used to do in the Mojave._

_I’ve been busy with the twins. Oh yeah, I had twins, it was a nightmare but they turned out ok. They look nothing like me and everything like their dad. Same steely eyes, staring people down with the same steely expression. I’m pretty much just a milk dispenser at the mo but I plan to hire someone to look after them pretty soon, and regain my sanity. Seth and them are crazy about each other. You remember what he was like with Carlito. All they wanna do is snuggle up with him when he’s at home. He wants more already. Let’s just say it’s an ongoing conversation between us._

_If you come but you wanna stay out of politics, San Fran has a pretty serious wildlife problem on its outskirts, so there’s plenty of work available as a gun-for-hire, pest exterminator. It’s big game - lot of deathclaws and centaurs, plus they have freaky shit like floaters and wanamingos. Remember No-Bark, how he used to go on about wanamingos? Turns out they’re real. Not pretty. Come to think of it, if/when you head over with Aya and the sprogs, let me know and I’ll come out to NCR City to meet you and escort you in._

_A map to our place is attached to this letter. Took us 35 days to get to the coast, going slow on my bad leg. (I’m a lot faster now though). I reckon it’d take you less than half that._

_If you can’t make it, write and tell me what’s going on with you and everyone there. I don’t miss the Mojave too much, but I think of you guys often. Give a hug to Vero for me._

_Your friend always  
Kate_

_PS Seth sends his regards to you & Carlito_

Boone re-read the letter a few times. He went and took a bath, and stared at the ceiling till the water went cold.

The next morning he started packing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it to the end! You have +10 Endurance. Choose 1 free perk: Silent Running, Kama Sutra Master, or Sharpshooter!  
> Thank you for reading, I very much hope you enjoyed it.  
> Cheers!
> 
> Acknowledgements: Seth Dove and Eben are the names of the small boys in the strange and beautiful film "The Reflecting Skin".  
> Also, the concept of Vulpes as a romantic lead (or even a remotely sexy guy) didn't even occur to me when I played F:NV. The discovery that it was possible was made by some intrepid pioneers in the early pages of the falloutkinkmeme, in stories like One Night of Sin and Saintly.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Busted!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090199) by [Trystero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trystero/pseuds/Trystero)




End file.
